


Escape from Mouse-zandaran

by Ms_Myth



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Bromance, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Gen, Mouse AU, Pets, Reincarnation, prequel to The Opera Rat Really Did Exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22689715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Myth/pseuds/Ms_Myth
Summary: A spin-off for Mertens' Rat AU. Before there was an Opera Rat, there were the Ratty Hours of Mazandaran. An old, lonely Daroga befriends an outcast rat, and together, they survive the intrigues of the Persian Court.
Relationships: Erik & Nadir Khan
Comments: 48
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mertens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/gifts).



> This work is based on Mertens' [Rat AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626601), the cutest and most wholesome Phantom adaptation to ever grace the internet. I hope I've captured her humorous, family-friendly aesthetic here.
> 
> Erik is indeed a literal rat.

Erik recalled in his dreams a time when he was large. Larger than he was now, for all his great size. In those days, he had been pale and thin, and still terribly ugly.

Big Mother had hated him. He did not look the way she wanted, and he did not act the way she wanted. She kept him locked away in the attic of her house and yelled at him when he tried to come out. She yelled at him and hit him for many things. He would never eat the food she cooked for him, especially the pastries she was fond of herself. He would say strange things that scared her. He would bother her with his experiments, which inevitably involved things she did not want him to touch. He asked for kisses from her, because mothers kissed their children, and she could not give him that. She took him to a mirror and showed him why. She was a beautiful woman, with dark curls, green eyes, and a perfect face. He was an ugly monster, with withered yellow skin, sunken yellow eyes, and a skeletal face that had a hole in place of a nose. He left her because she did not want him.

Little Mother hated him too. The first thing he remembered was fighting his siblings for food, and how Mother never allowed him any if they were not there. After that, he remembered being cold, and being pushed away every time he found a warm, furry spot. When he first opened his eyes, he saw that Mother kissed and washed his siblings and allowed them into the nest. He asked for kisses from her, and she could not give him that. Not until later did he know why. Little Mother was beautiful too, with shiny silver fur, black eyes, and a plump body. All his siblings were beautiful like her. He was an ugly monster, with no fur, red eyes, and a long, thin, wrinkled body. He left her because she did not want him.

As Big Erik, he had traveled across the world, displaying himself as a freak. Sometimes he had to stay in a cage, and he hated that. But oh, how he loved learning new tricks! There was nothing he could not master after he heard of it. Soon, he became the greatest ventriloquist, illusionist, and trap-maker in the world! Two of his talents he valued above all: architecture and music. He was always a great musician, with the most beautiful voice in the world. It was the one truly beautiful part of him. Music had kept him company when his mother would not. He could say more with instruments than he could with words. When he gave himself over to his muse, he felt his soul fly free of its wretched prison and brush against Heaven itself. He had studied architecture over the years, and it was tied to all of his happiest childhood memories. He had almost found a home in Italy, in the shadow of grand marble buildings, adding his own touch to the city that had hosted so many master masons, but then he had done something very bad. Nevertheless, he looked forward to carving a legacy for himself in stone, a masterpiece that would last through the ages and be unlike anything else that came before.

One day, a man some years older than himself came to bring him to Persia. He went with this jade-eyed man because he thought he could do something great with his talents in the royal court. He was not disappointed, because the Shah allowed him to build a great palace. He also gave him power over life and death, something he enjoyed very much in the beginning, but soon grew to hate. In fact, he grew to hate almost everything about his life in Persia, when he realized he was now in a cage that he could never be free from. He especially hated the Shah and most of the people around him, except for the jade-eyed man and his family, who were his only friends. He saved that man’s life at a great cost to himself, but it was worth it.

As Little Erik, he had explored the entire palace and familiarized himself with every secret that it held. Oh, how proud he was of his tricks! Soon, he was the greatest thief, illusionist, and trap-maker in the world. No one, not rodent, nor cat, nor human, could ever detect him if he wanted to hide himself, and there were so many places to hide in his secret realm within the palace walls. He would throw his voice into distant corners, and thus walk those who would trap him into traps of his own design. He wove together a new fur for himself from the bits of cloth that the humans threw away and the fur that the cats shed, so he was no longer cold. He took things from the cats and the humans and hid them, and then watched and laughed as they worked themselves into a frenzy trying to find their lost items. But of all his talents, he was proudest of his music. It was the only truly beautiful part of him. When he sang along with the Shah’s musicians, he felt like something greater than an ugly creature spurned by his own kind. He studied the musicians’ movements and practiced on their instruments when they were left unattended. He quickly mastered all the songs and instruments, and started creating his own music. He was a genius, after all. He looked forward to crafting a grand composition that would express every detail of emotion, a masterpiece that would last through the ages and be unlike anything else that came before.

One day, a man came into the palace. He followed the man because he looked unlike anyone else here. The humans and the cats were all arrogant and sly and lazy, but this man’s jade-colored eyes were tired and kind and sad. He hated every human, cat, and rodent in Persia, but he would never be able to hate the jade-eyed man. Not even when he was finally caught and put in a cage because of him. That man would become Erik’s friend, and save his life at a great cost to himself, and Erik wondered if it was worth it.


	2. The Rag-coat Rat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stamina Overlook for helping me with the proper form of Nadir's name and title.

_Erik is dead._

The thought sat heavily on the mind of Mirza Nadir Khan E’tezadi, Darugha Mazandarani, as he shuffled through the halls of the royal palace. A little while after he had buried his family, he buried his best friend as well.

This was the first time he had been summoned to the palace in months, more than enough time to complete his mourning period. He had yet to meet the Shah, and he was exhausted. Perhaps, it was time to consider an early retirement. The intrigues of the royal court and the strict punishments he was obliged to deal out as the _Daroga_ , or police chief, of Mazandaran never appealed to him. He only kept his position because he needed his pension and estate to provide for his family. And now there were no wives, no son, and no Erik to look after.

He paused in his steps. Perhaps it was simply a trick of his fatigue, but he faintly heard a scratching, scurrying noise echoing behind him. When he looked around and found nothing, he continued on.

A royal cat passed by him. He gave it a wide berth. The Shadow of God was fond of these creatures and allowed them free reign over the entire palace, but Nadir was not good with cats. The haughty feline was a better courtier than he, with its dazzling collar, a sure sign of the Shah’s favor, lending it an air of sophistication. Its well-groomed head was held high, its eyes alert, and its steps light and spry. Nadir could almost hear it scoffing at him, the old, friendless, foolish Daroga, as it turned a corner.

Just as he started walking again, loud shrieks pierced the air. He was tempted to move on, to let some later passerby deal with the matter, but the Shah would not be happy if he knew that he let one of the royal cats come to harm. Though he was unsure if he wanted to spend the rest of his life embroiled in politics, he had little desire to spend it rotting away in a prison or utterly destitute. Heaving a weary sigh, he dragged himself to the scene, and was greeted by the strangest sight he ever saw.

The cat was locked in a fierce fight with what can only be described as a moving ball of rags. A thousand scraps of cloth, some faded with age, some still brightly colored, streamed forth from its body in a thousand directions as it leapt to and fro, deftly dodging the cat’s claws. The cat had transformed into a terrible beast; its starry silver-blue fur stood on end, its green eyes flashed eldritch fire, and its shining fangs and claws were unsheathed. Unlike its master, its martial instincts had yet to be dulled by a life of luxury. Though its multicolored foe was agile, it was outmatched by the cat’s size and strategy and found itself gradually backed into a corner.

The cat pounced, capturing the rag-coated creature under its paw. Nadir could predict how this fight should end. The poor animal would spend the rest of its brief life dancing atop the cat’s palm, until the royal mouser tired of its game and, with all the finesse of a well-trained executioner, delivered the death-blow. He was about to leave, when the cat lifted its paw and the creature suddenly jumped. It grabbed the cat’s jeweled collar, swung itself upward, and landed atop the cat’s head. In one smooth motion, it slid down the slope of the cat’s back, and before its pursuer could turn around, crossed the smooth mosaic floor and scampered up Nadir’s silken pants leg.

Shocked by such a turn of events, the Daroga cried out and shook his leg in a whirling, hopping _Lezginka_ dance. The cat leapt and clawed at him all the while, and he was unsure if its prey was still the strange creature, or if it had decided to target him instead. Finally, after much effort spent fending off both the cat and the mysterious rag-coated thing, a mass of colors detached itself from his leg and flew off into the distance. The cat followed, rushing after its escaped prey.

Nadir took several deep breaths, relieved that his ordeal was over. It was a miracle that all the sound and fury had not attracted any attention. He was spared from humiliation for now. He smoothed down his now messy hair and beard and straightened his lopsided astrakhan cap. While adjusting his coat and belt, he felt a bump, and looked down to discover his unwelcome burden had not left him. Instead, the ball of rags remained clutching to his belt, as if it were an accessory. With a frustrated noise, he pulled it away.

He almost dropped it when it squirmed in his hand, tiny claws scratching at his skin. He almost dropped it again when he saw the long, twitching tail, and realized it was a rat. Still, it was the freakiest rat that he had ever seen. He brought it up to his face so he could have a closer look.

It was longer and larger than other rats. Except for its paws, its body was completely cloaked in strips of cloth, of any color and any pattern, woven together and knotted with cat hairs. It stood up on its hind legs, revealing a patch of rags on its belly had been torn off during the fight with the cat. The body underneath was bare of any hair. One of its front paws swiped down the length of its body, seemingly dusting itself off. Nadir almost laughed at that, until he saw its other front paw held one of the pink pearls of the cat’s collar, a loss which would earn some unfortunate slave a scolding once it was discovered. Even more ominously, the rat’s little head and face was covered over with a thin, tattered gray veil.

As Nadir stared at it, the rat stared back, two red points glowing through the holes in its covering. His first instinct was to hurl the creature down and stomp on it, but a rat garbed like this was more likely to be a trained animal than wild vermin. Besides, he had seen enough of death.

_Would you kill it? Just for being ugly and frightening? It hasn’t done anything to hurt you._

Erik’s disapproving voice lurked in the back of Nadir’s mind. He sighed and dropped to one knee, lowering the rat to the ground.

“This is no place for you. Go back to your owner.” He murmured.

The rat disappeared as soon as it left his hand. He did not know if it would go someplace safer, or continue wandering the palace grounds until it was finally caught by a cat. Either way, its final fate was no longer his concern.

* * *

The Shah was in a merciful mood during their meeting. He offered the Daroga condolences over the unfortunate deaths of his family, assured him he would not be punished over the death of the court magician and architect, and finally assigned him to confiscate the properties of said late magician, for Erik had no next of kin. The cats attending upon the Shah, however, had been whipped into a frenzy by the Daroga’s arrival. One by one they had pounced at him, and hissed and flailed when the Shah pulled them away. They grew to be so disruptive that the Shah was forced to call for their caretakers to take them away until after the meeting was finished.

Yet, the Shah’s sympathy provided little comfort for Nadir. When he left the palace and mounted his carriage, he still carried with him the stark truth that his loved ones were gone. The only one left was his faithful manservant Darius, and he wondered if it was fair to keep him bound to a lonely, despairing old man who would never advance beyond his current position.

That afternoon, he responded eagerly to the _Azan_ , the call to prayer, because ar-Ra’uf, the One who showed the utmost compassion, pity and tender mercy, was the only one who could give him guidance in this terrible time. He continued with _du’a_ , or supplications, after the _Salat al-Asr_ , the afternoon prayer, asking God to forgive whatever sins that his family might have committed and allow them to be happy in Jannah. And, though it might be forbidden, he also prayed for Erik to be allowed peace, for if the boy was a disbeliever, it was only man’s cruelty that had made him so. The sun hung low in the sky as he lifted his head. He blanched as he saw, standing on his vibrantly colored prayer rug, the no less colorful rag-coated rat.

Erik smugly folded his arms--or rather, just his hands--in front his chest as he regarded the man. Surely the fool was only just realizing that Erik had, in fact, not escaped when he set him on the ground. Instead, he had clung to the man’s sleeve, the billowing cloth concealing his presence. As the man walked, Erik climbed up his arm and hid himself in the collar of his coat. It was a brilliant display of stealth, and he had been rewarded with the sight of the cats’ impotent rage and the humans’ ensuing confusion. The man proved to be a satisfactory beast of burden, carrying Erik from the palace into the prayer room of his own house. Yes, the mix of horror and frustration on the man’s face was the perfect expression for one realizing he had been bested.

“Are you really so surprised?” He crowed. “You humans wouldn’t notice an entire horse on your backs.”

As his shock cleared, Nadir groaned in frustration and buried his face in his hands. After the emotionally exhausting entreaties to God, he had not the energy to become angry. When he slid his hands away, the rat was still there, and still squeaking at him.

“Why are you here?” He hissed at the animal.

Erik had no answer, because he himself was unsure why he had followed the jade-eyed human, except for a vague sense of fascination. He had shown no anger nor disgust for Erik. Indeed, his attitude toward Erik could be called merciful. He wanted to know why the human behaved so strangely.

Once again, Nadir scooped up the rat. This time, he made sure that the rat landed on the ground when he deposited him outside the front door. “Go. And don’t let Darius see you.”

Now rid of the unclean creature, Nadir repeated his cleansing ritual, prayers, and supplications. He never noticed the tattered figure perched on his window sill.

Erik listened through jade-eyed man’s prayers. He found himself nodding along as the man prayed for “Erik.” He could almost imagine those prayers were for him. Poor, unhappy, hairless Erik, hated even by his fellow rats. If he were a horrible creature, then it was only because the world’s cruelty made him so. Yes, let Erik be at peace! However, he knew such a prayer would never be granted, for Erik was too wretched a being. God had no love for Erik, whose own mother would not kiss him. Nothing could save Erik. Erik was meant to suffer. Erik was already dead and he only lacked the silence of the grave. The old man had wasted his time with tearful prayers. With a snarl, he turned away and clambered down to the ground.

* * *

Dinner was a sullen affair, as it had been for all these long months. After finishing the meal, master and servant wandered into the library to sort through the various reports that had accumulated over the day. It was not a task Nadir looked forward to.

Darius lit the lanterns, flooding the room with a warm glow. The first thing Nadir saw was the rag-coated rat, standing on his lacquered wood table and sifting through his papers. Darius made a disgusted noise and took a step forward, but his master held out an arm and stopped him.

“I’ll deal with this.”

Darius stared at him as if he had gone mad, and Nadir wondered if his servant’s suspicions were correct.

“I’m afraid I’ve made it rather attached to me.” He did not care to explain any further, and Darius, not wanting to pry, backed away.

As soon as Nadir approached the writing desk, the rat chattered and waved a paper at him. He snatched it out of the animal’s paws and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was a page of an important report, about sabotage on some Russian trade ships, that he had misplaced yesterday morning.

“How did you find this?” Perhaps, he was overthinking things. He had only met the rat this morning; it had no way of knowing he was searching for this document. Even if it did know, rats could not read. It must have been a simple coincidence.

Yet, the rat looked very proud of itself. It turned its head this way and that, scanning the paper piles. Then, it picked up another paper and slapped its little front paw on a certain line. Nadir looked closer, and the moment he read that line, he began making connections in his mind. The hint provided by the rat was the key to the case. He grabbed a _qalam_ , a bamboo pen, and quickly scrawled a note on the paper’s margins.

“Looks like I have just done your job for you, old man.”

Setting down the pen and paper, Nadir pinched the bridge of his nose. He must be overly tired, since he interpreted the rat’s squeaks as mocking words, spoken by a familiar voice. In addition to that, he was starting to believe the rat could read, and that it could read very quickly.

“Sir?” Darius asked, concerned for his master.

Nadir looked up and smiled, trying to reassure him. “Will you go to the kitchen and bring some _noughl_?”

Darius looked from his master to the rat, and then back again. When he spoke, his voice was tinged with alarm. “Sir, are you going to…”

“Don’t worry about me. Just go.”

With one last worried look at the Daroga and the rat, Darius reluctantly left the room. Nadir pulled out his chair and sat down, focusing on his paperwork.

Shortly after, Darius returned with the candied almonds. He scowled at the rat as he set down the dish. The rat hissed at him. Darius’ hand twitched.

“That will be all, Darius. You can rest for the night.”

Darius opened his mouth to object, but Nadir hovered protectively over the rat. He nodded and left, not understanding his master’s fixation with the vermin, but not wanting to trouble him for an explanation either.

Having thus dismissed his servant, Nadir picked up a snow-white almond and bit down on it. He slid the plate, with the rest of the almonds piled on it, toward his little guest. “Were you looking for food? Here’s something to eat.”

The rat must have gotten lost searching for the kitchen. Now that it had food, it might just leave him alone.

He almost hoped that this attempt would fail.

Erik sneered at the offering. Did the old fool think that if he wanted food, he could not have made his way to the kitchen? He had surveyed the house from the outside, leisurely strolling along its walls, and taken note of any and all possible entrances. He knew the structure of this house better than even the inhabitants. He came to this room because he was interested in the books, and then the documents. Now he just wanted to watch the human work, as he obviously needed help on his cases.

After a while, Nadir looked up from his paperwork to find the rat gazing at him, the plate untouched. It was rare that a rat could resist an enticing snack. He reached for the shroud over the rat’s head, deciding to do it a favor by untangling its mouth.

Erik snarled, his large teeth visible behind the thin sheet of cloth. “Don’t touch my mask!”

He lashed out and tried to bite Nadir, but the human withdrew his hand. He held his veil secure and ran to the other end of the table, out of the man’s long reach.

Nadir froze upon witnessing the rat’s reaction. His eyes grew blurry with tears as he was reminded of his departed friend. It was like Erik had come back to him for only an instant. He rubbed his eyes, then raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. This old man’s curiosity gets the better of him at times.”

Grief had addled his mind. The rat would likely not understand him, but he felt compelled to apologize, just as he would if he was speaking to Erik.

It was Erik’s turn to be paralyzed with shock. Never before had anyone treated him this way. Usually, either they would try to overpower him, or he would turn the tables and overpower them. Kindness and courtesy were things he heard of, but would never receive. After all, Erik was a cursed creature. He wondered what the old man wanted. Was he trying to trick Erik? Lull him into letting down his guard and coming closer, and then spring a trap? But Erik would not be easily tricked!

The old man reached forward. Erik winced. However, he only took an almond, popped it into his mouth, and went back to his work. After several minutes, Erik slowly, carefully, crawled toward him again. His teeth were bared, ready to rip into any errant fingers. However, the old man ignored him completely. This irked Erik, because while he hated when people gawked at him, he hated when people cast him aside and pretended he did not exist even more.

To avenge this slight, Erik leapt down to the ground, scurried over to a chair leg, and climbed up to the human’s lap, where he drew his silver watch from his pocket. It required little work from his nimble hands to unclasp the watch chain from the coat buttons, and the human never noticed any of Erik’s movements. The watch was large and heavy, but Erik was stronger than other rats. He bit down on the watch chain, dragging it after him as he retraced his steps and climbed back up to the table.

A minute later, Nadir, remembering that his watch needed to be wound, reached into his pocket and found it empty. Confused, he looked in his other pocket, to find it similarly empty. He stood up and examined both the chair and the ground, and still found no trace of his watch. Then, he looked up and saw, on the table, the rat sitting on the silver pocket watch inscribed with floral designs.

“Erik, why do you keep on doing this?” He blurted the exasperated words out from reflex. Then he remembered he was talking to a rat; a rat that had stolen his watch. He was unsure whether to be embarrassed or impressed.

Erik felt happy tears come to his eyes. Oh, to be called by a real name! Not demon or monster or vermin, but his name! He was glad that his mask hid his weakness from the old man.

He watched as the man scooped up a handful of almonds and offered them to him in exchange for the watch. He took an almond and slid off the watch. Turning his back to the man, he slid the edges of his veil up. He bit into his snack with his wrinkled mouth. It was the sweetest thing he ever tasted. He almost spat it out because he disliked sweet things, but underneath the sugar, the almond was very fragrant. He ate it up, every last crumb.

Nadir smiled and offered the rat another almond. Even though he knew the creature was unclean, it was quickly endearing itself to him.

“You really do remind me of a friend, little fellow.” He remarked, his jade eyes both sad and kind.

At this, Erik could no longer control himself. His body shook with sobs as large tears slid down his malformed face. For anyone, even an old, foolish human to think of him as something akin to a friend! It was too much happiness for Erik! He did not know how to respond, but quickly realized that not even his mask could hide his emotions anymore. To preserve the little scraps of dignity he had remaining, he leapt off the desk and rushed out of the room, squealing all the while. Only when he was hidden away in a dark, secluded corner did he let himself dissolve into a wailing mess.

Nadir sighed in disappointment when the rat left. It was not Erik, just a lost animal in search of food. Yet, the rat had been company for him, at least. Now, he once again felt the crushing weight of loneliness.

Meanwhile, outside of the house, Erik whipped off his mask, which was covered in tears and phlegm, and wrung the water out of it. He draped the slightly less moist cloth over his face again and set out toward the palace. He was a rat with a mission. He could never keep the old man company--after all, he was an ugly, cursed monster--but he could give him something to reward his kindness. That old man deserved the beautiful things in the palace far more than the cats did.

Tonight, the palace and all its inhabitants would tremble in fear of its true master.


	3. Little Sultana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik is still a rat. The Little Sultana is a cat. Lots of Nadir angst incoming.

Nadir had an exceptionally productive morning. He had leads to pursue for the sabotage case, and two of his lesser cases were already solved. Whether intentionally or not, the strange rag-coated rat had helped him.

The Shah summoned him in the afternoon to report on his progress of his investigation into the sabotage. Nadir almost hoped he would encounter his strange rodent visitor again. If anything, it had been responsible for pointing out crucial information about his cases. However, no animals, neither cat nor rat, interrupted his journey through the palace’s maze-like halls.

The servants directed him to the museum room. One European institution the Shah loved was the museum. They were perfect for displaying a nation’s power, knowledge, and wealth. The museum in the palace had walls lined with glass cases that held the greatest treasures that could be found in Mazandaran’s royal storehouse, as well as some natural curiosities such as snails frozen into rock and oddly shaped bones. Erik had enjoyed helping choose the exhibits to go into the museum upon the palace’s completion.

When Nadir arrived, he found the Shah observing some ceremonial sabers. He prostrated himself and greeted the monarch with due dignities, noticing that for the first time, the Shah was not surrounded by his cats.

“What have you found out about the fires?” The Shah immediately asked.

“Oh, Pivot of the Universe, I have sent my men to investigate some Russian deserters. I believe they destroyed the ships out of discontent about their captain.”

“Will you have an arrest within a week?”

“Yes.”

“Good. The Russians are very displeased about this. We cannot risk alienating them. If they are not presented with the culprits in time, it will be your head, Daroga.” With this final warning still hanging in the air, the Shah changed his topic. “And what of Erik’s estate?”

“I have started taking the inventory. Apologies, Shadow of God, but most of my men will be at work capturing the fugitive Russians, and this task must proceed slowly.”

“As long as the property is well guarded, it should be no matter.” The Shah shrugged. “Such a shame about his death. It will be hard to find an entertainer who can match his skill. Yet, it has also saved you some work. My palace would not be truly unique if he was allowed to roam free.” 

As the Shah spoke, Nadir lowered his head to hide his expression. He felt a pang of grief, and also one of anger. Erik had built this palace. He was the reason the Shah no longer held court in crumbling ruins. Yet now all Erik’s genius lay buried, without even an heir to his name. He was angry at the Shah for bringing Erik to Persia out of boredom, and treating his life and death so cavalierly. He was angry at the factions of the royal court, who would destroy an unhappy boy’s innocence out of mere pride and hunger for power. Most of all, he was angry at himself, for what justice was there in a world where a young man not yet in his prime--only a little over twenty, at Erik’s own estimate--died to save an old man who was already nearing half a hundred?

A sudden yowl from a cat drew Nadir out of his thoughts. For the first time he noticed the cats huddled between two display cases, around a domed bronze wire birdcage that seemed to host no birds.

“Ah, I see you’ve found the palace’s newest novelty.”

The Shah clapped his hands and two slaves stepped forward from their hidden niches—ones of the many tricks that Erik had built into the palace. They gently dispersed the cats and laid the cage upon the round table in the corner of the room.

“One of the cat keepers found this thing attacking Layla. It got Manjun and Mahsati earlier. Terrified the poor things, destroyed their collars.”

A colorful ball of rags lay huddled and still in the cage. However, when the Shah motioned for Nadir to lean in and look close, the ball jumped up in a fury and dashed at the newcomer, waving its paws and baring its teeth in an awful screech. It was the ugliest rat that either of the men had ever seen. It was completely hairless except for the whiskers on its long, crooked, sharp, beak-like snout. Its pale, translucent skin hung off its thin frame in wrinkled folds. Its eyes glowed a painful, bloody red. Shards of spittle flew out of its open, raging maw. It threw itself against the bars of the cage and jammed its face through the spaces again and again in futile attempts to attack.

“It thinks it’s more ferocious than it actually is.” The Shah said, drawing back, amused. “It’ll be a good game for my little darlings.”

Nadir’s heart sank when he realized that the creature in the cage was indeed his visitor from the night before. It was bereft of its veil, no doubt taken by the slave girls to find out what type of animal it was. The anger and anguish apparent in every fiber of its being perfectly matched that of Erik after he had been called to unmask before the Shah, his advisers, and his concubines. One of the young man’s hopes for his service in the royal court had been crushed that day, when he realized he would never be respected as a human being. The rest of his hopes would soon follow, one by one.

Despite being disgusted by the rat’s appearance, Nadir was still stirred to pity at its suffering. He was compelled to protest. “Forgive my boldness, Shadow of God, but it seems the royal darlings have little affection for this strange creature.”

The Shah laughed a deep belly laugh for more than a minute at Nadir’s comment. Shaking his head and gasping, he exclaimed, “I’ve never met a man who knows so little of cats, Daroga! No, these kitties enjoy a good hunt.”

“But, Pivot of the Universe, is such an animal really fit for the royal cats? Please allow me to take it and dispose of it outside the palace.”

The Shah shook his head again. “You need not worry so much. This is no ordinary rat, after all. Now, sit, and watch the show.”

Nadir reluctantly pulled out a chair and sat down. A makeshift ring was set out using the rest of the chairs. The cats were placed in the ring, and so was the rag-coated rat. Nadir squeezed his eyes closed. He only opened them when he heard chairs crashing to the ground.

Chaos had exploded. Robes and jeweled collars were shaken aside for quicker movement. Each cat flew at another in in a battle royale. White cats snapped their jaws at black ones. Siamese pounced on Persians. Claws flashed, fur flew, chairs rocked to and fro, war-cries rent the air! Through this all, the rag-coated rat remained unharmed, directing the course of the battle. It dashed between the cats’ paws and leapt over their heads. Blows meant for it landed upon the face of a fellow cat, who then retaliated against its aggressor. Cats stumbled around in circles, falling over each other as they tried to catch a tiny enemy that nipped on their hind feet. Bouncing from cat to cat, the rat stirred them to a fevered flurry of action.

Finally content that the cats had forgotten him in their agitation toward each other, the rat ran atop a chair, curled up on the cushion, and enjoyed the chaos. By this time, the Shah had ordered the slave girls to gather the various guards and cat keepers in an attempt to restore peace. Slave girls and eunuchs jumped into the fray, faring no better than the cats. Much screaming and tumbling over ensued before they were able to break the cats apart.

The Shah nodded, highly entertained at the carnage. “Impressive. Let’s see how it will fare against little Sultana.”

The rat, realizing its trials were not over, sped toward Nadir. However, its way was blocked by three slave girls, who formed a circle to herd it back into its cage. Meanwhile, a cat keeper went to retrieve the aforementioned cat.

The Sultana was one of the Shah’s newest acquisitions. Her name suited her well, for her fur was as smooth and bright jet-black as a _peri_ maiden's hair, her body as round and pleasant as the full moon, and of her large almond eyes, one was a beryl and the other a sapphire. She was as lovely as any of the court ladies, but also as cunning and as dangerous.

She was carried into the museum lying on a silk _termeh_ , or brocade, throw-pillow, her collar of sapphires and diamonds glistening in the afternoon light. As her new plaything was set out before her, she eyed it with an innocence that belied her cruelty. Quick as lightning, silent as the night, she struck with her paw, but the rat disappeared before she could pin it.

Then, from behind one of the glass cabinets, there came a light squeak. Sultana slowly prowled toward the area. Another squeak sounded. She pounced, but found nothing. Another squeak sounded behind an adjacent shelf. She leapt toward the new area, but again could not catch her prey. Again and again, squeaks echoed across the room, and Sultana pursued them until she curled up, empty-handed and exhausted.

Now it was the slaves’ turn to search for the escaped rat. They had no better luck than the cat. The creature seemed to be everywhere and nowhere.

Nadir felt something scratch at his leg. Looking down, he found Erik trying to climb up his trousers. The rat did not leave completely unscathed from the fray. Several patches of his rag coat were missing, revealing a body as bare and wrinkled as his face. He might have been pleading with Nadir to give him refuge, yet there was a prideful look in his posture, as if denying he needed help. Nadir scooped Erik up, hiding him in the folds of his coat.

“A superb creature!” The Shah’s tone carried a hint of fascination in addition to amusement. “If we could but catch it again, it’ll be able to last the kitties several games.”

Catching the rat, however, proved a difficult task. None of the slaves could find it, even though they combed through the entire room. With a disappointed sigh, the Shah dismissed them, instructing them to pay attention to any odd rats they may later encounter. Nadir too, was released to return to his usual duties.

Just as Nadir departed from the Shah’s presence, Erik reached into his mouth and drew out a saliva-covered sapphire. He wiped the gem on Nadir’s coat and held it out toward him, his thin lips twitching into what might be called a smile.

“Erik!” Nadir exclaimed, scandalized that like its human counterpart, the rat never passed up an opportunity to steal.

“You boring old codger.” The rat cheeped mockingly.

“Is this what you came back here for?” Nadir hissed, flabbergasted. Erik was risking his life for something as inconsequential as some shiny stones.

Erik said nothing in return, but scrambled toward Nadir’s pocket, where he dropped the stone, and then slipped in himself.

“Stop that.” Nadir hissed again, trying to withdraw the sapphire.

“Daroga, what are you saying?” The Shah asked curiously, noticing the Daroga’s bizarre mumbling

Nadir almost jumped up in fright. “Nothing. Apologies for the disturbance, King of Kings. I was merely going through my cases.”

“What’s that dangling from your pocket?”

Nadir looked down and found the tip of Erik’s tail poking out of his pocket. He quickly covered it with his hands. “Merely a loose thread, Refuge of Islam.”

The Shah frowned, suspicious. “It does not seem to be so.”

Before Nadir could give any further excuses, Erik sprang out of his pocket, pouncing toward the Shah. Sultana leapt up, springing to her monarch’s defense like a royal guardsman. The Shah called the slave girls back, and they separated the animals, returning Erik to the birdcage.

“To think the rat was in your pocket all along, Daroga!” The Shah exclaimed, laughing.

“Yes. How strange.” Nadir chuckled nervously alongside him, sweat drops forming on the back of his neck.

“Very well, return to your work, Daroga, and see to it that you pay more attention to your investigation than your clothing.”

With that final subtle threat, the Shah released Nadir from his presence. He then assigned the two slave girls who had first captured the rat to be its keepers, instructing that it should be healthy and well-fed in time for the next fight.

* * *

Nadir looked up wistfully from his paperwork. Money and intimidation had loosened lips, and by tomorrow, the fugitive Russians would be headed toward an interrogation. Unfortunately, he would never have the chance to tell his little helper the good news. He hoped that at least, Erik would have good food and shelter with his new keepers.

He craned his neck, rubbing at the muscles made sore by an hour of work. As he stood up to stretch his legs, he saw, on the ledge of his window, Erik the rat.

“Erik, how…?” There was a hint of joy to Nadir’s voice. The sudden visit was not unwelcome. The more he saw of the rat, the more he considered it to be a smaller version of Erik. He noted in relief that Erik now had his veil back, though his rag-suit was still missing pieces.

“Do you need to ask?” Erik scoffed. The Daroga severely underestimated his skills as an escape artist. Not even the best-made cage could keep him confined for long.

Erik leapt down from his perch and strolled leisurely toward Nadir’s documents. One of his little hands covered his mouth as he perused the paper. He slapped his paw down on a crucial line.

“Yes, Erik, I’ve already seen that. My men shall be ready to set out by morning.”

Erik nodded and stepped back. He looked Nadir up and down. “You look exhausted, old man.”

“I’m old. One day you’ll be my age and…” Nadir stopped and swallowed his words. Erik the rat would never reach Nadir’s age. He would grow old and gray after a mere decade. Nadir would always be older than Erik and rat Erik’s years combined.

“Do you not know Erik is a corpse, and corpses cannot age?” As if to demonstrate his youthful finesse, Erik leapt from the table to Nadir’s shoulder in a single bound.

“Always making a spectacle of yourself.” Nadir chuckled, rolling his eyes. Perhaps it was a further sign of madness, but watching the rat's movements, he could guess at what the rat was saying, almost as if it was Erik speaking to him. “But, would this corpse like to join me for tea?”

Erik showed no sign of refusing, so Nadir stepped out of the library and called for Darius. A look of alarm came over the manservant’s face as he turned and saw the rat on his master’s shoulder.

“No need to worry about him. He’s the Shah’s new favorite.” Nadir explained cheerfully, well aware of the absurdity of the situation. “Will you prepare us some tea?”

Knowing his master was no great lover of practical jokes, Darius stared on in stunned silence. Two options emerged in his mind: either his master had gone completely insane, or the Shah had indeed turned to misshapen vermin for entertainment. He pondered it for a moment, and decided to believe his master for now.

Very soon, jasmine tea was brewed and set out in two porcelain cups decorated with the Shah’s portrait, with some lemon in Erik’s share. Nadir was unsure if Erik the rat liked lemons, but the real Erik had certainly liked them.

Indeed, Erik enjoyed the fragrance wafting from his tea. The teacup was almost as large as he was, and he drank the tea by holding onto the rim with his hands and bending down. As he lapped it up, he was amazed at how well the crisp taste of lemon settled on his tongue. He had tasted tea before, but never enjoyed it. Not until he tasted this simple brew in the company of someone who did not hate him. He looked up and squeaked a quick thanks.

“Erik was much like you.” Nadir mused. “Clever, bad-tempered, moody, always sneaking behind people and then emerging at the most awkward times. He didn’t like to associate with people, but when he had someone to talk to about his interests, the things he would have to say! He was very gloomy, but if you paid attention he told jokes. Gloomy jokes, but they were funny.”

As he spoke, tears flowed through his beard. Tears not only of grief, but of relief as well. He had not spoken to anyone about Erik, not even loyal Darius. No one would understand why a perfectly respectable gentleman would consider a masked magician and assassin his friend and equal. He needed someone to hear this confession, even if it was just a rat.

He continued on. “He had a hard life. I don’t know everything about what happened to him, but he told me his face had cut him off from humanity. And I believed him. His appearance was unlike that of any other man, and he had to wear a mask to hide it. He said it was the only thing that guaranteed him any dignity. He was a genius, but his face meant the only way he could make a living was to go from fair to fair, exhibiting himself. He came to Persia so full of hope! He wanted to turn his life around, to be respected and loved, to do something good. But his time in the royal court crushed him. He was just a child, and I never even tried to protect him!”

At this, Nadir could no longer control himself. He buried his face in his hands and wept. Erik squeaked in sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “You speak so highly of Erik. He must have been a very good friend to you.”

Nadir took several deep breaths and gradually recovered his composure. “Yes, he was. A thief, a murderer, an unbeliever, almost completely amoral, but my best friend. And I supposed I was his friend as well. He trusted nobody, but he liked me and my family.”

Erik nodded along to Nadir’s words. “Erik likes you, and you like Erik.”

“I miss him.” Nadir sighed.

“Erik is here. He will stay with you.” In that moment, Erik could no longer distinguish between himself and the other Erik. They were one and the same. He was Erik, the ruthless monster, the unstable genius, and Nadir’s good friend.

Nadir shook his head. “No, you can’t stay. The Shah will be very displeased to find you missing.”

Behind his veil, Erik rolled his beady red eyes. “The mustachioed dolt doesn’t even know I’m gone.”

To tell the truth, though Nadir knew that he could incur severe punishment for stealing royal property, he was reluctant to let Erik leave. “Alright then. You can stay until I take you to court in the morning.”

Nadir finished his tea, then waited for Erik to finish his. He took Erik back into the library with him, while behind them, Darius furiously scrubbed the teacups. Realizing that Erik needed something to occupy his attention while he worked, Nadir gave him a book. However, Erik read through it in a matter of minutes. Nadir tried again and again with different books, all with the same result. Fed up with literature for the time being, Erik decided to entertain himself in a different way: by stealing and hiding Nadir’s pens.

Searching his mind for some other way to occupy the rat, Nadir suddenly thought of Erik’s automatons. They were still sealed away in Reza’s room. If the rat was truly similar to Erik, perhaps he would be interested in those.

“If you give me back my pens, I can show you some of Erik’s old things.”

Erik looked up in confusion when he heard Nadir’s offer. He could not remember what old things he had left in the Daroga’s house. He decided to go take a look, if only to refresh his memory. He quickly bustled around the room, retrieving Nadir’s pens from their hiding places.

* * *

Reza’s room looked the same as it did when the boy was still alive. Nadir had ensured that the room would not be cleaned after the funeral, lest it erase the remaining traces of his son’s presence. As such, pillows and toys were strewn about the floor. Sheets of calligraphy practice were left on the bed and the divan. A certain tapestry on the wall still showed traces of ink from one of Reza’s naughtier moods.

It only took one look into the room for Nadir to lean against the wall and break into tears again. Erik had made many magnificent toys for Reza, and now, these toys were left abandoned, since both owner and creator were gone.

“Was this Erik’s room?” Erik asked quietly, leaping out of Nadir’s pocket. The room felt comforting, almost familiar.

Nadir shook his head and picked up, with shaking hands, one of the toys, a curled up lion. “No, this was Reza’s. My son’s room.”

“Erik knew him. Erik liked him.” Erik stated. He knew that if he felt otherwise, he would not have left any of his things in the room.

“He is gone. Just like Erik. I am the only one left.”

At Nadir’s mournful words, Erik slowly walked toward a toy of a little man sitting at an organ. He sat down next to the black-dressed organ player and pressed his hands down on the miniature keys. Music flowed from his fingers as the long-silent keys suddenly sprang to life under their new master.

Nadir looked on in shock as the toy organ bellowed. Erik and Reza had taken the workings of the devices to the graves with them, but the rat was able to activate it. Even more surprisingly, the rat’s squeaks joined the organ’s sounds in an oddly rhythmic effect. It was almost like a Christian Mass. A requiem. He closed his eyes, almost hearing Erik’s hypnotic song again. He could not recognize Erik the rat’s language, if he indeed had one, but he could hear the emotions embodied in the music: grief, love, and also hope and comfort.

When the rat finished his song, Nadir felt more at peace than he had been in a long time. He smiled and bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you, my friend.”

Erik sobbed, moved to tears by his own composition. He cried for Reza, the boy he liked but could not remember; for Nadir, his lonely old friend; for himself, who finally had one friend. All the crying caused him to hiccup, and then sneeze. He began shivering as he realized the unlit room was chilly and his fur of rags was badly tattered.

Nadir pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dropped it over the shivering rodent. Erik took the corners and tied it around his neck like a cape. He knew from the peaceful, happy look on his friend’s face that it was time for him to go. He had done all he needed to tonight.

His cape trailing after him, Erik climbed up the stucco wall. Standing on the edge of the window, he called, “Goodbye for now. Take care of yourself, you old crybaby!”

Then, he disappeared, as if he and his soft white handkerchief were rays of moonlight.

* * *

The sun was just rising when Erik latched the door to his new home. It was a large cage made of brass wire and plates, decorated with enamel inlays, shaped into a palace. There were three rooms on the first story and two on the second story, in addition to a little tower with a bell, all connected with a set of stairs. In the first story rooms, He had a watering trough, a food bowl, and a little bed filled with cotton. Though he hated being in a cage, he had to admit that the bed was comfortable.

Just as Erik settled into bed, Sultana slid into view, as beautiful and haughty as ever. She crouched next to his cage, eyeing him hungrily.

“You are an interesting one, rat.” She purred. “No one else has ever given me such a workout. And I can’t help but think that was only a fraction of your true skill.”

“You would be right, Madame. And if you were to approach me again, you would see a fraction more.” Erik replied without a hint of fear for the predator.

Sultana licked at her paw, eyes never leaving the strange rat. “I look forward to it. But show me everything you’re capable of, or else I believe I shall rip away that ugly fake fur of yours. Yes, I would like very much to see what you look like under all of this. It would disappoint me very much if you were just a normal rat.”

She unsheathed her claws, one after the other, showing that she intended to make good on the threat.

Erik seethed. His body stiffened as his claws dug into his palms. Yet he kept his calm, showing no weakness to the cat. “We shall see, Madame.”

Sultana laughed. Her voice was very sweet and melodic, for that of a cat. Her eyes shone as she issued her challenge. “Then let me have fun, my rat friend.”


	4. Zabaniyya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is based on Mertens' [Rat AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626601), please read and review her stuff.

The Sultana kept her word to push Erik to his limits, and Erik kept his word to show her more of his tricks. The cats were filled with excess energy when they awoke from their noontime nap, and the Shah exercised them by pitting them against Erik in combat. This time, to lessen the chaos and raise the stakes, the Shah sent the cats in one at a time. Most of them found neither whisker nor tail of their prey and wandered off, disappointed. Only the Sultana was allowed to hear Erik’s squeaks. They went from her left ear to her right ear, from above to below. Every time she turned and pounced in one direction, Erik’s voice would be just behind her. She followed them until she became an ecstatic dervish, chasing after her own tail.

Erik proved victorious by the end of their rematch. The Sultana though, was a gracious loser. Her master’s endless caresses were more than good enough a consolation prize. Erik could only watch jealously as his caretakers shut him in his cage. While they provided him with nuts, which were his reward, they barely touched him more than necessary, and had obvious looks of disgust on their faces.

After a while, the humans left when the Shah turned his attentions elsewhere. Sultana spread herself over the floor in front of Erik’s cage.

“Not a bad show, rat.” She clapped her paws together languidly. “I suppose you shall keep me entertained for a long time to come.”

Erik suppressed a growl in the back of his throat. He hated her. He hated the slow, swaying way she moved. He hated the haughty way she spoke. He hated that she was always so beautiful while she mocked him. “If you want entertainment from me, Madame, you shall have it aplenty. Enough that you will soon tire of it.”

She laughed at that and replied with all the confidence of one whose very word was law. “Tire of you? Never. You’re the most interesting thing in this palace.”

“I thank you for your praise, Madame.”

“I’ve never seen a rat like you, wearing a fake fur, playing strange tricks.” She rolled over on her belly, still watching him. “You look different today. Cleaner.”

Erik’s rag-coat had been patched with pieces of Nadir’s handkerchief. He loved having a cape, but it was more practical to fix his coat. “I would not be able to hold your interest if I always looked the same.”

She stroked a paw down her belly, smoothing down the fine hairs. “Are you some sort of magician then? Show me your trick again, how your voice can be everywhere and nowhere.”

“Are you asking me to perform, Madame?”

The Sultana gave no answer. Her eyes were wide in anticipation.

Erik said nothing more. He closed his eyes and pretended to go to sleep, but the image of the soft fur on Sultana’s belly remained behind his eyelids and haunted him. Rejected by his mother and siblings, he never had the chance to bury himself in a sea of warm fur. He gulped a mouthful of saliva and wondered what it would feel like to curl up on her, or another cat’s, belly.

Sultana waited for Erik to throw his voice, but when he made no movements, she flipped herself over and raised her head, slightly more alert. “Is it a reward you want?”

“Well, Madame, humans usually pay to see a show.”

She raised herself to her full height. She spoke slowly, deliberately, every word of her sweet voice laced with both amusement and danger. “Such a greedy little rat. Don’t you know I am a royal cat? The Shah who could have any man or rat’s head cut off must answer to my whims. Isn’t my mercy reward enough?”

Erik’s voice sounded behind her. “Ah, but what an embarrassment it would be, if a royal cat proved stingier than a meager peasant.”

She purred, satisfied. Reaching up to her collar, she sliced the threads holding an emerald in place with her thin, sharp claws. She tossed the bright gem to him, and he jumped to catch it in his hands. He then bowed to show his appreciation.

“Will that be all?” He asked.

She crouched down again, her chin resting on her paws. Innocently, she said, “One more trick. Let me see what’s behind the mask.”

Erik froze. He stiffly replied through clenched teeth, “Forgive me, Madame. I cannot.”

“Do you wish for more rewards?” The Sultana tilted her head. “Or perhaps I need to remind you of the penalties for defying me.”

Erik leaned lazily against the bars of his cage. “If it so pleases you, Madame.”

“The next time you’re let out of that cage, or when I’m let in, I could tear off that mask myself. Along with the rest of your fake fur. And then nothing will be left to hide you from me. I’ll see every, last, inch of you. From your little ears, to your pink paws, to your belly, to your tiny little bottom and thin little tail.” The Sultana rattled her words off like a poem. She ran her tongue over her whiskered lips, and then over the thick, round, pads of her paws. “And then I think I’ll eat you. I wonder how you would taste, rat. Will you be thin and tough, or will you be soft? Maybe I’ll eat you in one gulp, or maybe I’ll lick you from top to bottom. Would you enjoy that?”

Erik shrugged. “You would need to catch me first to eat me.”

The Sultana bristled, offended by his indifference. “I’ve heard what the other cats are saying. You’re hideous. That’s why you wear the mask.”

Erik shot up straight and glared at her through his veil. Then, he slouched back, unwilling to respond to her provocations. He said coldly, “Then, it makes no difference whether or I show you or not.”

“Ah, but your hideousness is what makes you interesting. I want to see. And I will find out.” She yawned, flipping onto her back and curling her paws. “An extraordinary voice and extraordinary talents. You need an extraordinary appearance to go with them. Don’t disappoint me now.”

Erik ripped off his mask. He showed no hesitation and gave no warning. His gaunt, hairless face lay exposed in all its horror.

Sultana screeched and leapt back, arching herself into a rainbow, her beautiful hair rising into a forest of spikes. However, her fear soon passed, and she regained her regal dignity.

“Extraordinary. Truly extraordinary. You’re a stunning creature from head to foot, so ugly that it makes you a fascinating prize of a thing.” Her laugh and her tail trailed behind her, stroking along one of the pillars of dark-veined pink marble as she strolled away. “I’ll love playing with you again tomorrow, my dear rat.”

Now that he was alone, Erik shook with rage. He rampaged through his house, a howling, colorful whirlwind. His bed with soft cotton filling was flipped over. The rose petals covering the floor were torn up and thrown into piles in the corners. His ceramic food bowl was shattered. His wooden chew toys and watering trough and litterbox were hurled at the bars of the cage hard enough to dent them. All fabric items in his cage were chewed and clawed to shreds, including the bell-rope. When he ran out of things to destroy, he crouched down, sad and exhausted, on the floor of his cage, now wet and covered in the broken pieces of his own droppings.

* * *

Erik visited Nadir’s house that night. It was the only place where he could get any peace of mind. He found the old man tinkering with a toy of a colorful Roma dancer.

“Ah, Erik.” The old man greeted him cheerfully. “I see you decided to come keep me company again.”

Erik settled into a spot next to the toy, looking over its form appreciatively. It was made of brass, painted to resemble flesh, with joints linked together so seamlessly they were almost invisible. It had silk hair and glass eyes, and its wide-sleeved blouse and flowery dress were made of satin.

“Erik made this for Reza.” Nadir explained. Though he still had tears in his eyes, he was much calmer than he was the previous night. “He wanted to show Reza something from his travels. My son Reza, you see…he…he was never in good health. But he was a smart boy. There were so many things, so many places that he wanted to see, but would never be able to travel to. So Erik would tell him stories and make him toys. This was one of his last creations.”

Erik listened to Nadir ramble on. He could not recall Reza’s appearance or their happy times together, but he could almost remember assembling every last gear with love.

“He never did tell me how this one worked. It was always their little secret.” Nadir set the dancer on the table. Since he entered Reza’s room last night, he had been trying to think of the toys as mementos of his son’s life, instead of reminders of his pain. He loved Reza too much to allow his former prized playthings to sit idle, gathering dust.

Erik climbed on the dancer, which was twice his size. In a daze, his hands glided over its painted carapace, searching through the hazy half-remembered memories and dreams for the key to the toy’s working, until he found a spring bolt on the back of the head, stretched in a way so it would only respond to certain vibrations. He buried his face in the toy’s hair and squeaked, testing out the notes that would activate it.

Finally, the doll sprang into an energetic but graceful dance, spinning and twisting. Erik hopped off its back, satisfied with his own genius.

“Amazing!” Nadir exclaimed, thoroughly impressed by Erik’s feat. “It’s almost like you know all of Erik’s secrets.”

“Why would Erik not know Erik’s secrets?” Erik rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, “I created it after all, you dolt.”

Nadir only heard the first part. He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you are Erik.”

He held out his hand and let Erik climb on. They were about to go for tea when he noticed Erik’s rag-coat was splattered with black specks. He brushed one of them off, and recoiled at the texture, realizing that it was, in fact, a rat dropping.

“Erik, I think you need a bath.”

Erik hid his head under his hands in embarrassment. His filthiness was an unfortunate effect of his rampage. His caretakers had cleaned him the best they could, but since they were averse to touching him, they only dipped him a few times in soapy water. As a result, bits of excrement still clung to the folds and seams of his fake fur.

Nadir called for Darius, asking if there was anything in the house that would fit as a bathtub for a rat. Darius, of course, was less than entertained.

“Sir, that creature might be the Shah’s rat, but it is covered in droppings. It is not worth the effort to dirty yourself bathing it.” He protested.

“You’re right,” Nadir had to admit. Then, he was struck by inspiration. “In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

Darius let out a sigh of relief, a relief that proved to be premature, as when Nadir went into the bathhouse, he was carrying the rat in his hand. As his master thanked him, he kept his head low and eyes closed. He did not want to disapprove of his master, who had employed him since he was twelve, and treated him with utmost kindness. He should be happy his master chose to alleviate his loneliness with a pet. And yet his master had chosen for company a foul, ugly, rude beast all too similar to a certain ugly, rude magician.

While most of the people in the city congregated in public baths, the _hammam_ , the Daroga’s estate included a private bath. The only feature it lacked was a sauna room for the bather to sweat out toxins. Normally one would receive a massage from attendants before entering the bath itself, but there were few staff left in his employ after the disaster that cost Nadir his family. He was also sure that Erik the rat was too small for a massage, and the masseuses would not approve of a rat’s presence.

Nadir placed Erik on the rim of the bathtub. He disrobed and slipped into the hot water. His stress and exhaustion melted away as the heat loosened the knots in his muscles.

He scooped up some water in a silver repoussé bathing bowl and balanced it by the side of the tub, warning his little friend, “Be careful coming in.”

Erik had been curled up into a ball the entire time. He was sure that at any moment now, Nadir was going to throw him away because he was a disgusting creature. He considered running away and sparing himself some humiliation while Nadir conversed with Darius, obviously wanting to wash away the stain of being associated with Erik. However, Nadir had snatched him up too quickly. After that, he heard the sound of sloshing water, and he wondered if Nadir meant to drown him. It would be a fitting end for his miserable life.

When he heard no malice in Nadir’s voice, he cautiously lifted his head. He saw, through the steam, his friend sitting naked in the deep pool that served as a traditional bathtub. He was about to protest that the bath was too large for him when he found the basin. Almost crying from gratitude, he clambered up its side, twisting around to fall into the basin feet-first.

“Aren’t you going to undress?”

Erik squealed indignantly. “Is it not enough that I must see you naked? Are you so mad as to want to see Erik’s ugliness?”

Nadir smiled patiently at the agitated rat, and then turned away and covered his eyes. At first, Erik froze in place, stunned that he was allowed some privacy. Then, he wasted no time shedding his dirty coat and plunging into the basin with a loud splash.

The water had cooled quite a bit, but felt just right on Erik’s unprotected skin. It was his first time in a warm water bath, and it was the most comfortable bath he ever had. He relaxed and bruxed in joy.

Nadir snapped off a piece of his bar of _ṣabun-e benefsa_ , a soap known in the West as violet-scented Windsor soap. He dropped it into Erik’s basin.

Erik grimaced as he recognized the oily film spreading from the fragrant lump to be the same as the substance that the palace slaves had washed him with. However, he was fascinated with how a layer of bubbles formed over Nadir’s body as he scrubbed himself with the soap. Erik imitated his friend, taking up his chunk of soap and rubbing it over his arm and then chest. It tingled, but did not feel unpleasant. Some more scrubbing later, he was surrounded by a shimmering mass of bubbles. He pondered if they could serve as his new fur, but they popped one after the other, leaving him naked and disappointed. Nevertheless, he still appreciated the floral smell clinging to his skin.

“Are you enjoying your bath, little friend?” Nadir inquired sleepily. There was nothing quite so pleasant as relaxing in a bath alongside a friend. Even Erik, with all his genius, had admitted that the grand baths of the East were among the greatest inventions known to man.

“Yes. Going for a bath might be the only good idea you’ve ever had, old man.” As he spoke, Erik once again coated himself with soap. For one illusory moment, he enjoyed being soft and round.

For a long while, they conversed about various subjects, including Nadir’s investigations and Erik’s experiences with Persian customs and institutions, until the water grew lukewarm. Erik, deciding he had soaked enough, climbed out of the basin. He washed his coat in his soapy bathwater, checking under every fold. When the coat looked clean enough, he started to put it on.

“You’ll catch your death of cold.” Nadir warned, dropping his hand-towel over the masked but naked rat.

Erik rolled the wide, fuzzy towel around himself. He could never huddle with his family, or sink into Sultana’s fur, but he could warm himself with this towel. He was grateful that Nadir carried him away from the bath, for he had no desire to crawl out from his soft fortress. In fact, he barely had the strength to reach out and grab his wet coat, as the bath had left him feeling light-headed and boneless.

For the first time, Erik fell asleep in Nadir’s house. Nadir carried him, still wrapped in the towel, like an infant in his arms. He carried Erik into his own room and set him on the nightstand, intending to take him to the palace in the morning. As he was ready to go to sleep, he noticed Erik twitching and whimpering. Concerned, he reached a hand toward his little friend, only for Erik to snatch one of his fingers and cling to it for several minutes.

Nadir’s heart filled with sorrow. Like the real Erik, his little friend led a tormented life and found no solace even in sleep. Erik eventually released his finger, but continued to whimper. For the first time since he met Nadir, he seemed young and vulnerable Seized by pity, Nadir gently rubbed the top of Erik’s head with his finger, like he would pat Reza’s head to comfort him. Erik, feeling Nadir’s touch beneath his veil, visibly relaxed and fell silent.

Nadir watched him sleep, until fatigue finally overtook him and he sought out slumber for himself. When he woke up, the towel was still rolled up, but Erik was gone. He was slightly disappointed that both as a human and as a rat, Erik was always up and awake before him. He received a further disappointment when he stepped into his shoe, and something hard and edged dug painfully into his foot. Nursing his bruised foot, he stumbled backwards and sat down. He reached into the shoe and pulled out a sizable stone.

His eyes boggled when he saw it was an emerald.

* * *

Erik winced as he made a wet, squelching sound every time he moved. This was the price he paid for his indulgence last night. His wrinkled skin was now so puckered and squishy that he thought he might melt into a fleshy blob. Nevertheless, the bath had reinvigorated him, and he was in such a good mood that morning that not even Sultana could irritate him.

Said cat sauntered up to his cage, standing up on her hind legs and leaning against the bars.

“You were gone the entire night, rat. I almost thought you got scared and ran away.”

“As you can see, Madame, I have returned.” Erik smirked, enjoying her displeasure.

“I wonder where you keep going off to, all these nights. Maybe I’ll follow you tonight, but then I might get impatient and eat you.”

Sultana leaned in closer, opening her mouth and showing off her sharp fangs and the pitch darkness of her gaping gullet. Erik’s attention, though, was focused on her luxurious fur spilling through the spaces of his cage. If he reached out, he would be able to touch it. He wondered if it would be as soft and comfortable as Nadir’s towels. Half of him wanted to sink down into that sea of fur, and the other half wanted to tear every single one of her hairs out by the root so she would be exposed as the same type of ugly, twisted creature as he was.

He raised a hand, noting gleefully that it was not as ugly as the rest of him, with long, lithe fingers. It was a hand worthy of touching beautiful fur. Unfortunately, even as he reached for the shiny black fleece, Sultana was snatched away by two supple, bronze arms adorned with silver bangles. A pretty young woman with a round, sweet face and laughing eyes held the cat to her bosom, stroking her head and singing to soothe her even as she stretched her paws impatiently toward Erik’s cage.

Erik recognized the song as the very one that powered Reza’s dancing doll. He could not resist singing along. He was so swept up in his music that he was unaware that by the time he finished, he was the only one singing, with the human and the cat staring at him in awe.

When he closed his mouth, the dazed smile melted away from the girl’s face, and she yelped and ran away, carrying the cat with her. Erik was disappointed but not shocked, because everyone always reacted this way when the spell of his music wore off and they saw him for the monster that he really was. Everyone except for his friend Nadir.

A little while later, the girl rushed back in, accompanied by two guards and the silly little mustached man, in a suit with too many buttons, that everyone seemed to listen to. They discussed things in hushed tones, then the man ordered her to sing.

Erik could never deny music’s pull on him, so once again, he added his voice to the song. It was a love song, and he poured into it all of his hope and longing. When he finished, he heard, to his amazement, the little mustached man clapping.

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. Erik found himself taken out of his cage, measured in a variety of ways, and then shoved back into the cage, to be presented to one of the court musicians. He was a sullen-faced _tar_ , or long-necked lute, player who seemed very unimpressed with his new assignment: training a rat to dance.

Like he would with a human student, the musician started training Erik in the _dastgah_ , the traditional Persian music scales. He was shocked when Erik matched him note for note, and in his nervousness, began making mistakes. Erik, of course, could not abide by this. He slipped out from his cage, crawled onto the _tar_ , and plucked the correct notes.

The musician trembled in fear as Erik admonished him with angry squeaks. The rat was no pupil, but the true master. Under Erik’s watchful eye, the musician shakily began singing a passage from _Khosrow and Shirin_ , and Erik joined him. Though Erik sang not in Persian but the language of beasts, he followed the melody and tones without a single mistake.

Once the song was done, the magician threw down his instrument and rushed away in a panic. Erik did not mind, as he could now play his music without a clearly inferior partner. His caretakers found him strumming the tar and presented him, still standing on the instrument, to the little mustached man. The musician, kneeling before his lord, babbled accusations that Erik was no real rat, but the disguised form of some powerful magus or _ifrit_.

Erik was delighted by this theory, and apparently, so was the mustached man in his coat with shining buttons. He laughed, stood up from the divan that he sat on, and approached Erik’s cage.

“If you are a magician, then all the better. I am badly in need of a master magician at court, and you remind me of my last one. The form of a monster and the voice of an angel, a _Zabaniyya_ , just as he was.” The Shah fell silent as he contemplated his strange pet’s twisted form. “Let that be your name then, _Zabaniyya_.”

An electrifying shiver ran down Erik’s spine. His name was Erik, of course, and the human was a great ninny if he thought he would answer to anything else. Yet he felt himself drawn to the title, spoken with reverence and dread by all humans. Instead of a mere beast, or a monster, he was _Zabaniyya_ \--the angel of punishment, the guardian of hell, the helper of death, God’s wrath raining down on a terrified populace. As the _Zabaniyya_ , nobody would defy him again, for they would fear him and know him as their better.

His keepers prostrated themselves and thanked the Shah profusely for the title conferred upon the rat. Now they were no longer menial servants mocked for their odd occupation, but caretakers for a valued pet. They would have more chances to encounter the Shah and gain his favors. Meanwhile, Erik felt no such need for the Shah’s favors, but he still bowed and chattered a quick thanks.

The Shah sent the musician and Erik back to their lessons, threatening a royal wrath worse than any demon’s magic if the musician did not teach Erik all that he knew. Over the next couple of days, more musicians, as well as the royal magicians, joined them.

Erik eagerly learned every melody and every magic trick that was taught to him. Every day was spent in music and magic. He loved conjuring otherworldly visions, but he loved conjuring heavenly melodies far more. He poured forth his heart and soul as he allowed music to enter his mind. Music was the only thing he needed, the only thing he wanted.

He was so lost in his musical paradise, that he no longer thought of his friend Nadir.


	5. The Banquet and What Followed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long! My muse really got stuck in traffic. A big thanks to [Mertens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/pseuds/Mertens) for helping me with some of the dialogue in this chapter. This is a prequel to her Rat AU, so if you like this fic, make sure to check out her work.

It had been a lonely week and a half for Nadir. Every night, he had watched for his little friend, yet Erik’s visits had completely ceased. Though he missed the rat, the solitude was not as devastating, for he now spent his days reflecting on his family’s lives, rather than suffering over their loss.

Still, while walking through the palace, he looked down hopefully when he heard a squeak. At first, he could not recognize the tiny figure, for it had traded out a coat of rags for a courtier’s rich coat and robes. However, he realized it was Erik by his covered face and long, trailing tail.

“ _Salam dooet e man_. My heart has been tight for you. I’m glad to see you’re getting along well.” Nadir stooped down and allowed Erik to climb on his hand and up his arm.

“ _Salam_. The same to you, Daroga. Forgive me for not seeing you sooner, but I have been very busy.” Erik squeaked, settling on the Daroga’s shoulder.

“I can see that.” Nadir swept his eyes over Erik’s new clothes, observing with both joy and unease that they were tailored exactly to his little body, the astrakhan _kolah_ cap woven from glossy black wool and the _jobba_ coat cut from the finest indigo and yellow _boteh_ , or paisley pattern silk, lined with _kork_ wool at the collar and hems, while the crimson silk robe was decorated with gold embroidery of roses and nightingales, and under the white silk trousers were stockings woven in calligraphic designs and high-toed silver slippers. “You’ve found the Shah’s favor, haven’t you?”

“That mustachioed little man is a dolt, but he is very interested in Erik’s genius.” As flippant as Erik sounded, he could not hide his pride at finally being able to use his talents.

“You must be careful. The Shah expects much from you.” Nadir warned him, brows furrowed in concern.

“Come now, do you think I would not be able to satisfy him?”

“No, I do not doubt you.” Nadir grinned as brightly as he could, but there was a knot of anxiety deep in his stomach. Erik was treading in the other Erik’s footsteps. He too was too young and excited to be wary about the dark side of having and maintaining the Shah’s favor. Yet, surely the court would be less dangerous for a mere animal. The Shah would not charge Erik the rat with building palaces, or advising him on a direction for the country, or the hated duty of deciding life and death.

Erik, at first satisfied and smug, was unnerved when Nadir continued on solemnly.

“But you must promise me to be careful not to make enemies. And to always listen to your conscience, and never let anything lead you astray.”

“Why?” Erik cocked his head in confusion.

For a moment Nadir hesitated, unsure if he should tell Erik everything on his mind. After all, he was only a rat. However, he could not bear to fail another friend. He took and deep breath and explained, “Because you are the same as Erik. You have a brilliant mind, and for all your bad habits, a kind heart. I would not have you squander your potential. Erik was highly valued by the Shah, just like you are. But because he was so valued, Erik could never simply be a magician, or an architect or royal advisor. The Shah had other tasks for him, ones he hated but still had to do if he wanted to retain his position. They chipped away at his sanity and his hopes, until he became something he didn’t want to be.”

“What kinds of things?” Erik asked, curious and irritated with himself for not being able to remember.

“Unpleasant things.” Nadir gulped, feeling a lump in his throat. “Even during his first performance during a banquet, the Shah forced Erik to unmask.”

He saw in his mind, as clearly as if it happened yesterday, Erik sweeping his eyes over the guests in a panic. Only Nadir knew that he was looking for one guest in particular. _Protect me, Daroga_ , his golden eyes pleaded. Yet Nadir dared not speak out, for though his word was law in the streets of Mazandaran, he was but a lowly provincial official among the elites of the court. And so he betrayed Erik’s trust in him, and allowed him to be stripped of both his mask and his humanity. Both of them suffered for Nadir’s cowardice, for when he finally made up his mind to protect Erik, he found that Erik had become something that could neither be comforted nor controlled.

On Nadir’s shoulder, Erik reached up and touched his own masked face. He fumed as he recalled his mistreatment at the hands of mustached man and his attendants. How many humans and cats were there, shrieking and jeering at his exposed face? There were the slave girls who discovered him, but now that he thought of it, there had to be more. He would get his revenge on each and every one of them who dared taunt him.

“The Shah meant for everyone to fear Erik, and know that he controlled the terrifying ‘monster,’” Nadir shakily continued, reaching up to wipe at his wet eyes. “After that, he would send Erik against anyone he disliked. He encouraged all of Erik’s worst habits, so Erik would show his targets no mercy. Many fell at Erik’s hand, and people began calling him the _Zabaniyya_ , the Angel of Doom. None of them would ever know how kind Erik could be when he played with Reza, or nursed a wounded animal. And they have never heard the sadness in Erik’s music or seen his joy at finding something beautiful. So long as he served at court, Erik would need to be a monster. Only I knew that he wanted to be a normal man.”

Erik nudged his head against the old Daroga’s cheek. He could not decide whether Nadir was being overly noble or foolish to believe that he could be anything except a monster. He indeed wanted to be a normal man, or, rather, a normal rat, but his cursed ugliness kept him apart from all others of his kind.

“I will not let you be a monster, Erik.” Nadir scooped Erik up in his hand and brought the rat up, so they stared into each other’s eyes. “Promise me now that you will mind your conscience and not lose yourself.”

Erik shrank away in shame as he felt Nadir’s gaze burn holes into his soul. “I am afraid you are too late,” he admitted, “I am already _Zabaniyya_.”

“It is not too late,” Nadir insisted, his tone increasingly frantic. “Even if you must bear that title, swear to me as I have asked. Or, by the one and only God, Glorified and Sublime be He, I will find another way to save you from Erik’s fate.”

Sadly, silently, Erik placed his right hand over Nadir’s index finger. It was their version of a handshake. He had no idea how he could fulfill this promise. He had done horrible things to survive, and he would continue to do horrible things. It was laughable to think Erik could be saved from Erik’s fate. Yet he was unable to refuse Nadir, the only being who held out hope that he was not yet past saving.

Voices calling for _Zabaniyya_ floated through the air. Erik’s keepers had caught up with him. He squeaked a quick goodbye to Nadir, then leapt to the ground and dashed into one of the obscured, winding corridors.

Nadir wondered when he would see his friend again. Erik the rat had inherited Erik’s tendency to come and go unexpectedly. Still, Nadir knew that Erik would always return to him.

* * *

It turned out Erik would reappear not long later, as the closing act of the Shah’s banquet. The banquet itself was a routine affair, with food, drink, rewards, and entertainments, though the rewards were less extravagant than years past; the Shah’s building projects had shrunken the royal budget. It was held in the meeting room of the new palace, which was stocked to Western specifications, with a long dining table and hanging crystal chandeliers. Two Russian dignitaries were the guests of honor. They gave speeches about the progress Russian investors had made in industrializing Persia, and everyone toasted to the continued cooperation of the two empires. The magicians showed the audience’s favorite tricks, and the musicians played their favorite songs. However, Erik’s ending act was anything but ordinary.

When the large, bronze birdcage was first brought out, the Shah announced that it held his new and very rare songbird. The audience focused its attention on the inside of the cage, trying to locate the bird. Then, the chime of a bell drew all eyes to the tip of the birdcage, where a richly dressed little figure appeared. Before anyone could get a close look at the manikin, it sprang from its perch, flipping onto a painted egg that the serving maids placed before the shah. It rolled the egg to the center of the table, then hopped off. It picked up the egg, almost as big as itself, and threw it into the air. As it came down, it caught the egg and threw it again, and before the eyes of the audience, one egg became two, two eggs became three, until the manikin was juggling several eggs of varying size through the air. After a few cycles, the homunculus threw the eggs so they clashed with each other, unleashing a series of colorful, dazzling sparks that obscured its form.

By the time the light show was over, the little figure had vanished from the table, but soon after it was heard plucking away at a tar lute. It raised its voice in a wordless song, which, thanks to the peculiar acoustics of the room, echoed loud and clear around the ears of the audience, catching everyone present in its spell. Through squeaks and chirps, the manikin brought out deeply buried desires and fears. None had dry eyes left at the end of its performance.

When the Russians remembered to clap, the strange little magician had disappeared again, reappearing within its cage in time to bow to the audience and bask in their applause.

When the serving maids cleared the cage away, each guest was left to guess at what they had just seen. Some of the more superstitious suspected it to be a djinn. Others, better versed in Western technology, were of the opinion that it was no more than a clockwork doll.

“ _Gamayun_ ,” one Russian whispered to his companion. Even with his rational mind, educated in the greatest colleges, he could only imagine the song he heard coming from the mouth of a prophesying bird from Paradise.

The Shah sat back, satisfied with the confusion of his courtiers and Russian guests. In the mind of this King of Kings, only he knew the secret of his singing, dancing manikin. Yet at his very table, the Daroga of Mazadaran, with his head bent down, was fighting the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. The mysterious little creature, who graced the Shah’s table and performed for foreign dignitaries, with an act that could have come from a certain master magician’s routine, was Erik!

* * *

When Erik arrived at Nadir’s house that night, he found the old man in the guest room and not the library. There were two places set out at the _korsi_ , the heated table, with tea and candied almonds.

“Welcome, Erik. Congratulations on your successful debut.” Nadir greeted Erik cheerfully as the rat clambered up the thick blanket that draped the table.

“Could it have gone any other way?” Once he was on the tabletop, Erik lay down and enjoyed the warmth. “You humans are very easily entertained.”

“You showed off some very spectacular tricks. As expected from you.” Nadir remarked, taking a sip of his tea.

Erik waited a while, but that was all Nadir had to say. There were no awestruck praises of his clever tricks, not even questions about how they worked; nothing to indicate any genuine interest. Disappointed, he turned away from Nadir and grumbled, “You boring old fogey, Erik’s art is wasted on the likes of you.”

Smiling patiently, Nadir set down his teacup. In moments like these, Erik betrayed his youth and all the conceit that came with it. He decided to indulge Erik’s need for attention, like he had done many times before. “Well, I’m wondering a bit about the eggs. How did you turn them into fireworks?”

Erik’s ears instantly perked up. “It is very simple. The eggs are all of paper, slipped over each other like Russian nesting dolls. A shame on the Russians for not recognizing their own tricks being played on them. The necessary powders were all packed in the final egg. And once I add some flint powder…” he snapped his thin little fingers, sending out a spray of sparks that barely missed setting his mask aflame, “…the egg hatches. And it hatches into a bird that soars jolly high!”

“It does seem like an easy trick.”

“Of course it is.” Erik snickered, tail twitching in excitement. “But you would not be able to think of it, would you, Daroga?”

Nadir shrugged. “I suppose not.”

They were both silent for a little while as they drank their tea. Nadir ate some nuts, but Erik ignored them—his caretakers had fed him plenty in reward for his performance. In truth, he preferred another reward over food, one that he made sure to acquire for himself over the course of the banquet.

His thirst quenched, Erik entered into a new round of boasting. “Have you ever seen a show like this one?”

“In fact, I have.” Nadir answered without hesitation.

“Do not lie, Daroga, it does not suit you. None of your human ‘magicians’ can match Erik’s genius.” Erik leaned against his teacup and smirked confidently.

“There was one.”

Erik’s smile slowly faded as he realized Nadir was not joking. “Impossible. He could not have been _that_ great.”

He had no idea who Nadir was speaking of, but he already hated him for daring to injure his pride. The very thought rankled, being compared to some large, clumsy, lazy human as if they were equal!

Nadir enjoyed teasing the rat, a bit more than he should. It was rare that he had the upper hand in a conversation with Erik. “He was. In fact, Erik was chief among the royal magicians. He could change cats into horses, ice into fire. He reached into lengths of brocade and plucked forward dewy flowers. He sawed maidens in half and then rejoined them. He conjured anything, no matter how big or small, from thin air. He even made skeletons sing and dance.”

Erik burst out laughing. He felt foolish, for being jealous of himself. “Then Erik is still the best thing you have ever seen.”

“Yes. He was a born entertainer.” Nadir smile wistfully. “But he saved all his best tricks and stories for my family. For Reza especially. He said he loved seeing us laugh.”

The words tumbled from his lips then, as he described Rookheya’s gentle smile, Firouzeh’s bright eyes, and Niloufar’s jiggling belly. He spoke of how his two senior wives would watch on, fascinated, as Reza showed them the sleights-of-hand he had learned from Erik, and how Niloufar, young and naive as she was, hid behind her two mistresses, and only peered around them occasionally, ducking back down at any loud noises or flashing lights. There were times when the family sat together, and Rookheya had captivated Erik with stories that even the far-traveled magician had never head. And there were other times when Firouzeh had marveled at Erik’s youth, and chattered on about how he needed to eat more and rest more, causing Erik’s ears to flush red and his alluring voice to die down into meek mumbling. And both Firouzeh and Rookheya would watch on and laugh whenever Darius and Erik competed for Reza’s attention. There were so many beautiful memories that were dying to be shared with some listener, even if they were only a rat.

Erik was swept along in Nadir’s stories. He relived the happy times alongside his friend. Yet when Nadir finally fell silent, a sobering realization came crashing down—the two of them, along with the currently absent Darius, were the only ones still here.

“I am sorry about your family. They were wonderful people. May their place be green.” He offered a traditional condolence.

“Thank you.” Nadir muttered. Talking about his family took a weight off his chest, but it also made him long for their presence. “There are times when it seems they could return at a moment’s notice. Rookheya, Firouzeh, Niloufar, Reza, and specially Erik.”

“I’m right here, you great booby,” Erik said, skittering across the table to pat Nadir’s large, strong hand with his little ones. He knew he was a poor substitute for an actual family, but Nadir had called him his friend.

“I’m glad you are.” Nadir gently tapped Erik’s paws with a single finger. In that moment, he felt the original Erik was speaking to him through the rat, and it was a better comfort than anything else. “You’re a handful, but I’m glad to be your friend, Erik.”

They chatted for a while longer, over the current events in Mazandaran, and then over the things Erik saw in the palace. They both offered each other advice, Nadir speaking through experience, and Erik speaking through insight. Erik remained until Nadir retired for the night, returning to the palace and his cage under cover of darkness.

* * *

Erik was a constant visitor over the course of the next week. As the next banquet would be a month away, his schedule had relaxed considerably. For much of each day, he rehearsed his magic tricks and music. The humans and cats had mostly stopped bothering him, except for Sultana, who slipped in front of his cage every morning and demanded entertainment. Every time she appeared, her demands became more elaborate: she missed the blood sports from before, she wanted excitement and spectacle. She grew more addicted to his presence every time he denied her requests. She replaced her threats with sarcastic expressions of affection, and took pleasure in trying to disgust him. Fortunately, Erik knew more about the secrets of the palace’s structure than she did, so he could hide from her before she drove him mad.

This morning, having escaped from Sultana yet again, Erik saw Nadir coming down a hallway. He eagerly approached his friend, only for Nadir to frown and shake his head.

“Not now, Erik. The Shah demands my presence immediately.”

The Shadow of God was in a foul mood that day. Ever since Zabaniyya’s debut banquet, jewels had been disappearing from the palace. At first, some damaged cat collars and missing jewelry among the guests, for example, the two Russian dignitaries each losing one of their gilded opal cufflinks, were thought to be mere accidents. However, the thefts soon became more brazen. The more favored a consort was, the more likely she would fall victim, her jewels stolen out of its box, or even off of her own body as she slept. And today, even the Shah’s own prized Daria-i-Noor pink diamond had been stolen away, pried from its seat in the Shah’s cap.

The Shah’s orders rang in the Daroga’s ears. By the end of three days, the Shah would either have the diamond, or he would have Nadir Khan’s head.

Nadir wasted no time in arranging a search effort. Once again, he considered retirement. If he survived his current task, then the Persian court would no longer have a place for him. An oversight like this one ensured his fall from the Shah’s favor, and he was now easy prey for those who would rather install one of their loyal allies as the Daroga of Mazandaran.

None of his spies in the harem had any clue about the thefts. The jewels had seemingly evaporated into thin air. No amount of locks or decoys could deter the thief, who snuck past all defenses to reach their objective. As a result, Nadir had to conduct an exhaustive search. Every eunuch, serving maid, and even page boy was stripped to their undergarments and thoroughly examined. Any jewelry found was taken to be cross referenced with the royal treasury records to ensure it had been legitimately awarded, while the owners were detained and questioned. As Nadir oversaw the transfer of the detainees to holding cells, he felt a distinct weight brush against his thigh. He reached into his pocket and felt his hand close around a hard, square object. Slowly, he pulled it out and opened his palm.

A faint bloody glow, ominous in its unearthly beauty, danced before his eyes. The cold, almost icy-clear stone seemed to burn like a coal, branding his hand with its mark. The Sea of Light, they called it, and it really was the rosy light of Mazandaran’s seaside dawn given form.

Droplets of cold sweat, as large as marbles, rolled down Nadir’s forehead and back. They might as well as have been streams of blood, given his sense of certain doom. The Sultan’s prize diamond, a treasure that men had fought and died for, now rested in Nadir’s hand. He had set out to catch a thief, and found himself caught in a trap. His blood would now be added to the diamond’s rosy light.

* * *

Erik snickered and congratulated himself on another job well done as he returned to his cage. As usual, human caution was no defense against his cleverness. In fact, he preferred the added challenge, as there were some very clever precautions installed. The humans in the palace, stupid, lazy, lumbering oafs, did nothing to deserve their beautiful jewels. Beautiful things like gemstones should belong to someone who could actually appreciate their meaning. However, keen beauty-lover that he was, Erik had taken the gems not for himself, but to repay the only man who had ever shown him any companionship.

“Finally, you’re back.” Sultana complained, winding herself through the corridors to sit in front of Erik’s cage. “You were very rude to not come when I called for you, _Zabaniyya_. Especially since I’ve prepared a lovely little surprise for you.”

“I am happy to know that you value me so, Madame.” Erik bowed to her, still in a very good mood from his success this morning.

“Aren’t you excited to see what gifts you’ll get?” Sultana watched closely, but Erik remained unmoving and unflappable. “Or are you scared? You would be wise to be, as I could be sentencing you to some punishment instead.”

“I shall take whatever you give me.” Erik replied. “I have seen all your punishments and they are, frankly, artless. Do you think they could scare me?”

Sultana laughed and licked her lips. “We shall see.”

By the tremors caused by their heavy feet, Erik could predict the approach of his two caretakers even before they came into view. As much as humans liked to describe their women as light and airy, the truth was they were as clumsy as the rest of their kind. Meanwhile, Sultana’s movements were truly undetectable as she slipped across the floor and tangled herself between the girls’ legs. She escorted the women toward Erik. One of the girls held a large tray, its content hidden with a blue silk cover. As she set down the tray and lifted the cover, the other girl opened the door to Erik’s cage. Sultana circled behind them, supervising their work.

Then they came in, garbed in gold and white and black, shining like stars, soft like smoke, quivering like flowers in the wind—five lovely female rats. The door closed behind them. Erik froze. Every muscle within him seemed to be a clock spring, twisting and winding and ready to burst. He wanted to quiver with desire, to spring on them and bury himself in their masses of downy fur, but he controlled himself. He glared toward Sultana, finding her even smugger than usual. He realized he was caught in her trap. This reward would be worse than any punishment.

As expected, the other rats backed away at the freaky sight. Erik swallowed a mouthful of saliva nervously, and called out with his most inviting voice. “Come, you know what you’re here for.”

The rat maidens’ eyes glazed over for a second, but no amount of mesmerism could remove their apprehension. While they looked and nodded at one another, none of them made any move forwards. Instead, they huddled tightly into a ball of fur.

Still holding a shard of hope, Erik took off his hat, showing his large, smooth ears. He lifted up his tail and twisted the tip around in his little hands. “Can’t you see? I am a rat like any other. As terrible as I am, you shall have nothing to fear from me.”

Under his clothes, his entire body flushed red and hot. He dared sneak a look up, and found that two of the other rats were whimpering and crying. If anything, they were more scared that he was a very real ugly rat instead of some unbelievable monster.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise!” He called pathetically, his fingers digging into the thin skin of his tail. “You won’t need to marry Erik, much less love him. Simply letting him touch you will do.”

“Please, no…” One of the rat maidens whimpered.

Sultana and the human girls’ gazes bore down on them. Erik bristled as he realized they were now a spectacle. The six rats here would be a rat pack, and the humans would allow no disobedience.

“Do you understand the danger you are in?” Erik said, his voice taking on a hint of authority. “Right now, I am the only one who can protect you. Won’t you come stay by me for now? You will be free to go once they are no longer watching.”

The rat maidens conversed with each other in hushed squeaks, still hesitating. The presence of others outside his cage compounded Erik’s shame. Despair rose up and swallowed him like ocean waves under a moonless sky. He was cold, so cold that he went numb.

“You will not embrace me.” He stated, empty of any emotion except a crushing weariness. With an expert flick of his tail, he undid the lock and opened the door of his cage. “Go.”

“Thank you.” The largest rat maiden whispered as she stepped toward the exit.

“Did I give you permission to go?” The Sultana said, almost affably. She cocked her head, looking over the terrified and frozen rat maidens. “Oh, you’re welcome to do as my dear _Zabaniyya_ says. After all, you belong to him. But I’ll eat the first one who steps out of that cage.”

Slowly, surely, she licked at one of her paws, each well-formed finger, down to the sharp, shining claw. The rat maidens looked from her to Erik, and finally, one of them took a step toward him.

Erik scowled and turned around, burrowing into the lining of his cage. He had no desire to possess them like this, to have them come to him with terror and not love. He only rose when he heard a chirping song, and he found one of his caretakers was now playing a small reed whistle

The well trained rat maidens stood up on their hind legs and performed a graceful dance, forming a drifting cloud with their fuzzy bodies. Erik watched them with distaste. Their dancing was rigid and routine, with no sign of character, and he could tell where they missed beats. He would need to retrain them, if they were even salvageable, if they were meant to participate in his performances.

The rat maidens closed in on him, sniffing at him, memorizing his scent. One of them reached for his coat. Erik wanted to push them away, he needed to push them away, but his body was sluggish. He weakly squeaked in protest as they pulled away his coat and shirt. Then, they stopped and recoiled instinctively at the sight of his pink, wrinkled, freakish skin. That short respite slapped Erik back into reality. He opened his mouth to send them away, but the Sultana’s hungry yowls mixed with the caretakers’ commands urged the unfortunate girls on. They snuggled up to their intended bridegroom.

For one moment Erik was in heaven. Warm, soft, round bodies rubbed against him, tickling the folds of his skin. The sweet scent that all lady rats had naturally stuffed up his nostrils. He bruxed in ecstasy, then sneezed; they giggled nervously. Yet Erik’s happiness could never last long. The next moment, he sank into a hellish nightmare. The rat maidens clawed and bit at him. What were meant to be playful nudges left bleeding trails on Erik’s bare, unprotected skin. He flailed as they tore at him, unaware that his furless skin was extremely sensitive. Blood and writhing bodies filled his vision.

Frenzied with pain and betrayal, Erik screamed and threw off the other rats. “You! How dare you! Out from my sight! Now!”

To drive in his point, he tore off his mask, showing them the monster they had touched. His wrinkled face was twisted in rage, bloody froth poured from between his snapping teeth, and his red eyes shone with tears that were fiery sparks.

The rat maidens shrieked and scrambled away, eventually crowding at the open door. In their mad dash to escape him, they blindly stepped over one another, but they were finally able to make their way out of the cage, and into Sultana’s waiting jaws.

Erik desperately wanted to avert his sight, but remorse and sheer terror pinned his eyelids open. He witnessed every second of the result of his impulsiveness, a dreadful _Bandari_ dance to the tune of Sultana’s satisfied purrs and the pained moans of the unfortunate rat maidens.

Her grim game done, Sultana curled up and licked at her now dirty paws as the disappointed caretakers cleared away the remains of her meal. The Shah's plan to create a family of musical, hairless rats had failed.

“My apologies about that.” She sighed, genuinely downcast. “But fear not, you are my favorite rat, and I shall not allow you to remain lonely. The next batch of girls will be prettier and better trained.”

Shuddering--whether from anger or from fear, even he himself did not know--Erik drew his silk coat over his wounded body. He let out a cry of pure anguish. He hated the Sultana for her pity, he hated the rat maidens for running, and he hated himself for causing this carnage.

“Still, it was a very entertaining show,” she mused, “a very tasty one as well. How did you like my closing act? A shame that you didn’t join me.”

“There was…no artistry in it.” Erik snarled, finally able to form words. It was almost comforting, returning to their usual banter.

“Well, then, you’ll have to give me a better show next time. I hope we’ll both enjoy ourselves.” She got up and circled Erik’s cage, nuzzling her forehead against each side. “And don’t be so sad, _Zabaniyya_. You’re a poor, miserable creature when you’re sad. I can’t have any fun with you at all.”

Erik did not rage when she left. Instead, clad only in his coat, he dashed out his cage and out of the palace.


	6. The Gemstone Curse

Nadir moaned and buried his face in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he sat up and regarded the offending objects on his desk. Inside the plain wooden casket, a dazzling array of gems shone forth: diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, pearls, all of the highest quality.

This box, along with its precious contents, was one of the only two mementos he had of Erik. The other was a thin, lacquered leather-bound book filled with Erik’s writings. He had found both of these stowed away in a secret compartment during his final sweep over Erik’s property. It was a blessing from God that he felt compelled to re-enter the apartments after the final inventory, and that he rested his hand on exactly the right spot to uncover the passage. In hindsight, he should have expected this from Erik. The Trap-door Lover had one last secret tucked away.

Nadir took the gems and kept them, not out of greed, but because they were valuable to Erik. They were the remains of his beauty-loving soul. He could not bear the thought of his policemen digging their fingers into Erik’s carefully chosen collection, each taking for himself his portion of the customary reward for such tasks. Besides, Erik had obtained some of the gems with less than legal means, and revealing they had been hidden away under his nose would reflect badly upon him as the Daroga.

Perhaps his dishonest act had invited a curse upon him, since now he could barely turn around without finding gems of all kinds. Some invisible hand placed them in his pockets, in his shoes, on his chair, in his drawers…He gathered them up and hid them somewhere even Darius could not access. He had seen enough of the royal court to be wary of a sudden influx of wealth. The stones were of such high quality that surely they came from some special place, and their owner must require some special favor from him.

The gemstones were worrying enough, but shortly after the banquet, the gifts increased in size and frequency. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, and even jeweled cufflinks appeared around his home. Finally, even the Daria-i-Noor diamond turned up in his pocket.

Fortunately, while the policemen and palace guards were occupied elsewhere, Nadir planted the diamond in a mynah’s nest. Soon after, he pretended to discover it, presenting bird, nest, and diamond to the Shah. That was the end of the search for the diamond, though there was still a less urgent search for the lurking jewel thief. For now, he was safe.

He needed to know who was sending him jewels stolen from the royal palace, and he needed to know why.

In his mind, he combed through the web of convoluted alliances and agendas that ensnared the court. However, his thoughts were disturbed by a skittering sound, following by familiar, heart-rending sobs.

“Oh Daroga,” Erik moaned, dragging himself across Nadir’s desk. “I am the most miserable wretch in the world!”

Nadir was moved to pity by the scene, but hesitated in reaching out to comfort his little friend. He recalled when the original Erik had fallen into such moods. Once Erik stopped masking his pain with anger or stoicism, he became entirely unpredictable.

“It is a cruel God indeed that allows an existence like mine to continue.” Erik flopped down, belly toward the ceiling, and raked at his awful face with his bloody claws. “Is it a joke to Him? Placing Erik upon this Earth, so he can suffer and never be free!”

“You shouldn’t speak like this.” Nadir scolded him, frowning. He was used to Erik’s lack of both faith and morality, but he never failed to be bothered by moments of outright sacrilege.

“But it is true! Erik is a monster! He destroys everything good! He is made for misery!”

Not for the first time, pity overcame Nadir’s caution, and he scooped the weeping rat into his arms. He noticed then that Erik was unmasked and wearing nothing except his blue silk coat. More worryingly, his small body was scored with a multitude of wounds. There were scratches along his back and legs, and teeth marks over his nape.

“Erik, what happened? Are you alright?”

Erik sighed wearily. “I shall live, Daroga. Live and continue to be unhappy.”

Bandaging Erik’s wounds was a difficult task. Nadir was no doctor, but thanks to his constant dealings with men wounded in the line of duty, he was well-acquainted with basic dressings. Yet his fingers were gnarled, thick and clumsy, while Erik, despite having impressive size for a rat, was small and delicate. Perhaps he should have asked Darius, with his keener eyes and steadier hands, to take over, but he knew Darius would not appreciate such an assignment. At least, Erik did his best to remain still and not instinctively snap his teeth at Nadir whenever the salve stung him.

During this long process, which continued into the final minutes of sunset, Erik explained the unfortunate events from earlier in the day. Nadir’s heart sank as he listened. Erik had lamented before that he would never have a woman’s love, and while his strange appearance gave him ample reason for these claims, Nadir believed he was merely suffering from youthful melancholy. Money and power, after all, could sway hearts. Now, though, Erik had been proven right by Erik the rat’s misfortune. Even if bestial instincts could overcome the terror of Erik’s ugliness, his deformity prevented him from receiving any affection. It broke his heart to know had Erik not died, both he and Erik the rat would be doomed to loneliness.

“Poor Erik,” was all he could say as he blinked back tears. He hastily finished Erik’s dressings and cradled the unhappy creature in an embrace.

“Poor Erik.” Erik echoed his friend’s sighs. He nuzzled against Nadir’s chest, comforted that his human friend, at least, did not hate his ugliness. 

With sudden horror, Erik realized he was smearing tears, phlegm, and blood against Nadir’s shirt. He pulled away, ashamed at his repulsive behavior, but Nadir smiled patiently and cleaned the mess with his handkerchief. He handed the napkin to Erik, which caused the rat to burst out into tears again, this time from gratitude. It was several minutes before he could compose himself and wipe his face.

“Have you cried enough?” Nadir asked as Erik fell silent.

Erik weakly nodded and released the now filthy handkerchief. It was the second of Nadir’s handkerchiefs that he had ruined. He had the decency to look ashamed.

“Let it be sacrificed for you.” Nadir reassured him. “Now, are you in the mood to help me with a case?”

He knew that the best way to bring Erik out of his depression was to occupy his mind with work of any kind. He was sure this would work with Erik the rat as well. As expected, Erik’s posture instantly grew more alert.

“You’re slipping up more and more in your old age, Daroga. Isn’t it lucky you have me around?” He spoke quickly, plunging himself into this new topic. “So, what’s the mystery?”

“Well, do you see the gems before you?”

For the first time since his arrival, Erik noticed the casket on the table. He leapt down to the surface, standing on his hind feet so he could peer into the box. He was dazzled by the beauty of its treasured array. He reached in and pulled out one of the smaller gems, running his fingers over its cold, smooth surface. “I see you’re quite wealthy for a Daroga. Good taste, too.”

“No, these aren’t mine.” Though he gazed directly at the casket, Nadir’s green eyes held a distant look. “They’re Erik’s. They’re all I have of him now. Except for you, little friend.”

Erik slipped the gem into his coat pocket. Since these beautiful things were rightfully his, he had no qualms about taking them and keeping them. “Ah, so the greatest thief in Mazandaran is the Daroga himself. No wonder you take every opportunity to critique my craft.”

“I’m not sure who has found out about these, but they’ve seen fit to entangle me in their jewel thefts.” Nadir beckoned at his recently acquired collection of jewels, which had been swept to the side when he treated Erik’s wounds.

Erik regarded the pile with pride. He had been a good friend, making sure Nadir was well compensated for their dealings together. The old Daroga’s confusion put him in an even better mood. With mock concern, he said, “Why, what is Mazandaran coming to, that even the Daroga’s house has been burgled? Perhaps you should not keep so many valuables in a visible place, old man.”

Nadir sighed and shook his head. “No, no one has been stealing from me. I wish it could be that easy. Rather, they’ve used me as a depository for their stolen goods.”

Erik cocked his head, not understanding Nadir’s frustration. “Well, what is the problem, then? Are you not grateful for these gifts?”

“Each of these ‘gifts’ is a death sentence.” Nadir’s mouth was set in a scowl, but his expression softened as he realized Erik was a rat. “Your world is much more innocent than ours, little friend. You take things whenever you want to, but we humans cannot do the same. The Shah is in a terrible rage over the theft of his jewels, and it is up to me to catch the criminal.”

“He is a worse dolt than I thought,” Erik scoffed, “if he cannot see that you deserve fine things more than he does.”

Nadir smiled sadly, then closed his eyes and reviewed the facts of the mystery again. “What do you make of this thief, Erik? Does he want something from me? Or is he just trying to frame me?”

Erik flicked his tail back and forth, deeply chagrined by both the condescension and ingratitude. “You nincompoop! How can you think that? If he wanted to hurt you, he would have done something worse! You would be injured, or even trapped in a pit!”

Nadir looked toward his seething, hissing friend. “What’s the matter?”

“I cannot believe how great of an old fool you are!” Erik huffed and puffed and spun his tail madly, resembling a walrus with his long, smooth body.

A shadow of suspicion gnawed at Nadir’s mind. Erik seemed to take the case awfully personally. Perhaps…

He quickly squashed that thought. Even though Erik, as both a human and a rat, could be reckless, he trusted his friend. He knew Erik would never purposely endanger him.

“Forget about this case,” Erik murmured. His initial fury past, he curled up, sad and exhausted next to Nadir’s elbow. “Be happy with your treasures. I can tell you they were given to you with the best of intentions. If you don’t like them, then trade them for something else…”

Nadir’s suspicions returned with a vengeance. Yet, while he was annoyed with Erik, he was also touched that the fleet-fingered rat cared so much for him. Heaving a sigh, he reached to pick the unhappy little creature. Erik attempted to dart away, but the added weight in his pocket held him down. He wiggled and squealed in protest as Nadir brought him up to face him.

“Erik,” the Daroga said solemnly, “I can’t do that.”

He would have said more, but was cut off by Erik whipping the stone out of his pocket and hurling it at him. It fell far short of striking the Daroga, tumbling harmlessly into his lap. Still, that distraction was all Erik needed to get away.

By now, it was time for the _Salat al-Maghrib_ , the sunset prayer. As much as Nadir was concerned for Erik, right now his religious duties called. He hoped that until he and Erik met again, _al-Ghaffar_ , God the Ever-Forgiving, would watch over the little creature and keep him safe.

* * *

As Erik dashed across dingy alleyways and clambered over dusty ledges, he cursed the terrible fortune that always followed him. Not only was he forever denied love from his own kind, but now his only friend had also rejected his hard-acquired gifts.

He stopped in his tracks, ducking behind some discarded pottery fragments to avoid roaming predators. For a moment, he considered running away and leaving everything behind. He could carve out a new life for himself. No more royal cats, or treacherous females, or ungrateful old men. It would not matter where he went, so long as it was free of painful memories.

He craned his neck to look out toward the road. He was forced to shrink back as the movement caused a twinge of pain. In his anger and grief, he had forgotten he was injured. He reached up to check that his bandages were in place, and recalled the care Nadir had taken in treating him. Suddenly, remorse stabbed at his mind. How could he even consider leaving, when he again owed Nadir his life?

Letting his nose lead him, he made his way back toward the palace. One more heist; the greatest heist of his life. He would find a treasure so magnificent that not even the self-righteous old Daroga could refuse. Then he would leave, if Nadir no longer wanted to see him.

* * *

Today had proved to be a rough day for Nadir. After a sleepless night worrying over his wounded friend, he had been called to the Shah’s side to report on his investigation. Knowing that he was essentially on a wild goose chase, the Daroga could only confess his lack of progress. The King of Kings had been very displeased at the news. The politically astute women of the harem had all found ways to turn the current misfortune to their advantage; each hurried to accuse her rival of theft, as well as bemoan their affliction before their beloved monarch. As a result, the Shah had no peace day or night, and was impatient to see the case resolved.

After repeated apologies and promises to rectify his mistakes, Nadir was finally released from the Shah’s presence. He paced the halls of the palace, unable to find an answer for his conundrum. He could not reveal Erik as the perpetrator; even if the Shah could believe his story about the larcenous rat, he would be implicating himself as the beneficiary of Erik’s crimes. However, his conscience would not allow him to blame an innocent person, not for a case of this magnitude. He was so caught up in his ruminations that he almost tripped as something rubbed against his foot.

“You great booby!” Faster than his friend could notice him, Erik scrambled up Nadir’s leg, until he was clinging to the fabric of Nadir’s shirt collar. “Stop being so imprudent! You were just about to take a tumble, and you know what would happen to your old bones then!”

Nadir’s initial relief at seeing Erik quickly turned to irritation as the rat admonished him with huffs and hisses. As he lifted Erik off his shirt by the scruff of his neck, his troublesome little friend felt oddly heavy. He realized the reason for the increased weight when he saw light glisten off a large, circular green gem tied to the rat’s belly with dirty, used bandages.

He almost dropped Erik in shock. This was no ordinary emerald. It was one of the greatest treasures within the realm, rivaling, perhaps even exceeding the Daria-i-Noor diamond. This king among emeralds, with its great weight and vivid color, usually sat in a special golden belt, to only be worn on the grandest of occasions.

Staring at the rat and the jewel, Nadir pondered if he really was cursed. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, then asked as calmly and quietly as possible, “Erik, what are you doing with that?”

Erik unwound the bandages and held out the emerald with his stubby rat arms. “My final gift to you. Take it, Daroga.”

“No!” Nadir’s refusal came out louder than he intended, and he slapped a hand over his mouth when he heard his voice echoing through the corridor. After looking around to ascertain there were no interlopers, he hissed to Erik, “Put it back. Before anyone sees you.”

Erik’s teeth chattered in anger. He thrust the gem at Nadir again. “Do you know how much trouble I went through to get this? Take it!”

In truth, it had not been much trouble at all. The guards stationed in the museum watched carefully for suspicious humans, but not for rodents. Erik had coaxed the story of the emerald out of Sultana by amusing her with his tricks. When his keepers were momentarily distracted, he made his way to the museum room, where he quietly plowed through the wooden bottom of a display case and claimed his prize. It had been too large and heavy to carry the usual way, but, fortunately, his injuries had healed to the point that he no longer needed all his bandages. He had taken a moment to admire his own reflection on the polished marble floors. He was still hideous; there was no helping that, but he looked very elegant, even if the emerald was strapped to him with dirty bandages and not a golden belt.

Nadir, well used to Erik’s displays of skill, recognized the lie as soon as it was spoken. He shot Erik a disapproving look. “Stop this.”

“Why will you not accept it? You will not be rid of me until you do!” Frustrated, Erik dashed the emerald toward the ground. Nadir was forced to catch the green stone before it could fall.

His heartbeat pounding his ears, Nadir checked the stone for damage, only daring to breathe when he found it smooth and whole. Once he collected his wits, he began speaking. “Rid of you? What are you talking…”

Just then, snippets of conversation drifted down the halls. Erik had designed the palace so that, standing in certain corners, one could hear others speaking throughout the place, no matter how quietly. Right now the guards were in a panic, discussing the disappearance of the prized royal emerald. Still holding both Erik and his pilfered gem, Nadir ducked behind a pillar in case the guards decided to come searching this way.

“Do you know how much trouble you’ve gotten us into?” Nadir snapped, shoving the stone back at Erik. “I don’t want this, and even if I did, it’s not worth my life, or yours!”

“You saved my life! And you won’t even let me repay you? What am I to you?” Erik wailed indignantly and flailed his tail as the pain of betrayal set in. Was Nadir only pitying him? Were they never truly friends?

“Is that what this is about?” As Nadir recalled his first meeting with Erik the rat, realization hit him like a heavy stone. The next moment, he fell to his knees, cradling Erik and sobbing.

Erik was his friend, yet he forgot a key part of Erik’s character. Erik was never one to stay in another’s debt. Anyone who did him a service could expect a fair payment. The unhappy life the young man led left him unable to believe that kindness could be its own reward, so he always made sure to repay those who gifted him with the slightest bit of respect or compassion, whether with expensive gifts, or favors done in the nick of time. It was no curse that plagued him, only Erik’s friendship.

Drying his tears, Nadir did his best to explain. “Oh, Erik, you don’t need to repay me with these baubles. Your friendship is reward enough.”

Erik stiffened in confusion. Then, in a daze, he looked up at Nadir and murmured, “I am…enough?”

“Yes. I enjoy being with you, Erik. That is all I need from you, your time and your company.”

Erik whimpered, then curled into a ball and cried. He was ready to die of happiness then and there. For these few seconds, he knew more love and kindness than he had ever known throughout his life. His friend would stay with him, while asking for nothing from him in turn. However, it did not take long for his elation to die down. He thought of himself, and how terrible of a creature he was. He was ugly, he was rude, he existed to get his friend in trouble…He was almost angry at Nadir for having such terrible taste in friends. Stupid kindhearted old man...

Nadir gently stroked the weeping rat’s back. When Erik had sufficiently calmed down, he suggested, “Well, right now, there is one thing you can help me with. Can you give all the jewels you took back to their owners?”

Erik raised his head and scoffed. “Why should I? Those fools need a lesson about properly caring for their precious objects.”

“I would say the lesson has already been learned.” Nadir laughed and bit back a thought that Erik, too, had learned a much-needed lesson today. “So, will you return them?”

“Of course I will. To help my friend.” Erik replied, growing increasingly vexed over the amused glint in Nadir’s eyes. “Do you doubt my abilities?”

“No, I know you can do it.” Though he kept a straight face, Nadir's green eyes sparkled with mirth and affection. In Erik's opinion, they shone brighter and looked more beautiful than the renowned emerald in his hand.

“Wait and see, Daroga!” Erik exclaimed, snatching up the emerald and springing out of Nadir’s arms. “Wait and see!”

He was gone by the time the guards arrived, calling for the Daroga to come lead an investigation. This time, none of his monarch’s orders or reprimands could rattle him, for he knew that Erik was at work, setting things right.

* * *

Peace gradually returned to the royal court over the next several weeks. Starting with the emerald’s re-emergence in its case, jewels thought missing began appearing within piles of laundry or lining the bottoms of drawers. Even the Russian dignitaries’ cufflinks turned up inside a soup tureen. The various owners retracted their accusations, lest they now be accused of carelessness by their rivals and humiliated before the Shah. Some still suspected the presence of a clever prankster, but never spoke their theories aloud. While the Daroga faced some criticism for not properly keeping the peace, neither his life nor position was endangered.

Erik enjoyed these relaxing days. He spent his mornings training in music and magic, and nights playing with his dear friend Nadir. He showed Nadir his best tricks and helped him review his cases, and Nadir in turn allowed Erik to curl up on his shoulder and shared stories with him about his human counterpart. They royal cats still annoyed Erik from time to time, but otherwise, he had finally found the happiness and respectable status that he craved.

Of course, this was but the calm before a storm.


	7. Rope Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based off [Mertens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/pseuds/Mertens)' Rat AU. Please go check out her works.
> 
> There are two nausea fuel scenes in this chapter. One of them involves food. Please read at your own discretion.
> 
> Thin mustaches were indeed a mark of feminine beauty in 19th century Qajar Iran.

“Are you there, _Zabaniyya?_ You’re always running off these days.” Sultana peered into Erik’s cage, trying to catch sight of him.

Erik was hidden behind his food bowl, grooming himself. Paying no attention to her, he wet his paws and gave his bald head one final round of rubbing. Nadir had made sure to offer him a bath every Friday, the day of _Salat al-Jumu’ah_ , the congregational prayer, so there was not much grime to clean away, yet his bare skin was too easily irritated. His grooming done, he replaced his hat and mask and checked to make sure all his clothing was in place. He would not expose himself to mockery by showing the cat his disgusting body. After that, he emerged to inspect his bell-rope. There was only one day left until the next banquet, so he had to ensure everything was in working order.

“You’re doing well,” she commented cheerfully, watching him go about his business. “I’m glad. That means you’ll put on a good show.”

“You underestimate me, Madame,” he replied brusquely, once he finished his checkup. “Have I ever failed to entertain you?”

“Of course not. But I want you to enjoy yourself as well.” She rubbed her forehead against his cage.

His heart rate quickened at the sight of her soft black hairs poking into the cage. However, he kept firm control over himself, and his answer was as coldly curt as before. “Thank you for the well wishes. I believe you have no more business here.”

The more Sultana lavished her affections on him, the less patience he had for her. The palace and its riches held less appeal for him nowadays. Unlike other, crasser rats, he relished not the easy food and shelter, but the power and prestige provided by his position. As _Zabaniyya_ , he could finally display his talents to the world. Yet, for the past few days, he had far better peace of mind staying alongside Nadir. He seriously considered retiring from court and moving to the Daroga’s residence full-time after his next performance.

Sultana mewled, disappointed by the rat’s lack of reaction, and lay by his cage. However, she quickly perked up as she sensed the approaching jingles of the rat keepers’ anklets. One of the girls picked up the cat; the other, clearly inferior to her companion in some way, picked up the rat’s cage, even as she cringed at the sight of its inhabitant.

The two animals were brought out into the palace gardens. It was an unusually warm and clear day, but the gardens were considerably smaller than those at older, grander palaces and lacked a greenhouse on their grounds, so out of all the flowers planted there, the daffodils leaning over pond alone woke to enjoy the sunshine. Their bright white and yellow blooms were dollops of light on the water’s edge, a sign of life in the otherwise dull courtyard.

Erik caught sight of the gold buttons on the little mustached man’s suit twinkling under the sun before he noticed the man himself. He came walking down the rocky garden path, through the grove of trees that hid the structures which boxed in the garden at all sides, with an elegant woman leaning against his arm, followed by his retinue of pageboys and maidservants and dwarf jesters. The servants carried all the necessary equipment for a picnic.

The lady was a beautiful flower that eclipsed the rest of the winter landscape, large and vibrant in her colorful _kolija_ jacket and flaring _shaliteh_ skirt and white _khimar_ veil. Erik felt a sharp twinge of jealousy. Even this unmotivated lout had a mate, while Erik, with all his genius, was alone. He almost raged over the injustice of it.

The moment the Shah caught sight of Sultana, he detached himself from his companion and sought out the cat instead. To reward the caretaker’s attentiveness, he gave her a kiss, and then the white gloves off of his hands. The Shah’s lady-love, sensing a rival, fixed a vindictive glare upon the blushing slave girl. However, as she turned toward Erik, her expression softened.

Erik crouched on all four legs and bowed to her, imitating the greeting rites of a courtier. The lady covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. Erik could not begrudge her for laughing, as there was no malice behind the act, and she had very pretty red lips under her soft, wispy whiskers.

The Shah looked up from petting his precious feline. “Do you like him, Heart of Hearts? He’s a very interesting creature, and he can do many things.” The lady made a little noise of assent, and the Shah beckoned toward Erik. “Let my dear one hear your song, _Zabaniyya_.”

Erik had to admit, as foolish and self-important as the little mustached man was, at least he had the good sense to respect genius when he saw it. He hummed a few notes as warm-up, then launched into a song of joy. He welcomed the approaching spring, and compared its delights with his own high spirits. While his song contained no human language, the royal consort and her maids still hummed along to its tune.

“That was a wonderful song!” The royal consort exclaimed when Erik fell silent. “What shall he have as a reward, Your Majesty?”

“Anything you would give him, dear one.”

Thus, it was by the royal consort’s order that the little singer be served some _khagineh_ , sweet egg omelet, from the royal picnic basket. Erik bowed in thanks. He was no lover of sweets, but he munched on the morsel as a courtesy to the lady.

“A great shame, that he cannot attend a _Rawda-khwani_ and chant laments for the Martyrs. Though, his elegies might cause too much weeping.” The Shah mused as he watched Erik eating his treat. The cat in his arms hissed and stretched out a paw at the pageboys, one of whom carried a sealed box. The Shah shushed Sultana, then motioned at the rat keepers. “Now, show him what he has been brought here for.”

The girls set Erik’s cage down on the grass. Meanwhile, the Shah’s attendants spread out blankets for their master and mistress to sit on. The box was brought over next to the cage, and Erik’s caretakers lifted the lid to reveal it contained five handsomely formed rats. Eager to please her master, the better-favored rat keeper showed no disdain as she reached and picked up the rats, one by one, to place them into Erik’s cage.

Erik went rigid in shock, fear and desire tearing at him, the nightmare of his last failed interaction with other rats fresh in his mind. His scars throbbed with phantom pains, jarring him into action. He dived behind his water bow and hid himself under the lining of his cage.

After a while, not sensing any movement from the others, Erik lifted his head and cautiously sniffed at the air. This pack was different from the last one. Instead of all females, there were three females and two males. The leader of the pack led his followers in circling around the cage, prying at the bars, searching for an exit, but the rat keepers had firmly locked the door.

One of the females, rambling about, not paying attention to her steps, stumbled over Erik’s tail. He twitched, alerting the intruders to his presence. The rats followed their noses and headed over toward him, and Erik was forced to reveal himself.

It was well known among those experienced with handling rats that they were less territorial than other creatures. Thus, two or more males might be trusted to share an enclosure with no problems. However, neither of the males in the pack had ever seen anything like Erik. Thus, they bared their teeth at him threateningly.

“Who are you?” The leader snarled. “What are you?”

“What indeed?” Erik chuckled, low and menacing. He took a step closer to the pack, then turned himself to the side, showing them his sumptuously clothed body and long tail. “Of course, I cannot be just another rat. No, I must be something utterly different from the rest of you because of the quirks in my appearance.”

“Why are you wearing those things? It’s freaky.” The pack leader, a fluffy piebald blue rat, hissed, still apprehensive. The others murmured their agreement.

“These robes are a sign of the Shah’s favor.” Erik strutted up toward the unnerved head rat, his clothing shimmering under the sun. “Join me and let me guide you. Beautiful clothes and good food, and all sorts of other rewards would be yours.”

“Join you? What gives you the right to order us around?”

“The simple fact,” Erik drew out his words smugly, “that you are now in my house. I assume you already know a bit about performing. You would not be given to me if you were not. I can assure you I will be a fair troupe master. Each of you will have the role that your talents are best suited for.”

“What if I refuse?”

Aware that Erik was gradually advancing, the leader slid toward him, unwilling to be cowed, lest he lose his dominant position. The two of them circled each other, preparing for the possibility of a fight.

“Don’t do this, Houmayoun!” One of the ladies in the pack called out. “It’s a good offer!”

Her words served as the spark to make the tension explode. Eager to prove himself to his followers, Houmayoun sprang and snapped his teeth at Erik. Erik responded quickly, kicking him away. Houmayoun rolled to the side while a gold-colored lady, serving as his lieutenant, sprang to his defense. Erik slipped away from her, and Houmayoun rose up on his hind feet. Recognizing the challenge, Erik also stood up. He was pleased to see that while his rival’s fur provided him with greater girth, he still towered over the other rat.

The lieutenant backed away from the fighters, and the other rats gathered behind her, dreading what would happen. One of the females hid under the cage lining. The remaining male in the cage covered his eyes.

Houmayoun struck first with a punch aimed at Erik’s jaw. Erik deflected it and aimed his own punch into Houmayou’s ribs. The two exchanged blow after blow, until Erik grabbed both of his opponent’s hands in an attempt to restrain him. They grappled, spinning about, backing into the corner under the bell tower. Both rats tumbled to the floor, tangled up in the trailing bell rope, fighting against its coils even as they fought each other. Above them, the bell pealed, as if it were a scorekeeper taking toll.

Finally, the bell rope snapped under the strain. Using hands and teeth, Erik pried off his section of the rope. No sooner had extricated himself than Houmayoun flew at him, biting and scratching. They fell into a heap. After some struggling, Erik managed roll atop his rival. Houmayoun was oddly quiet and still as Erik pinned him down.

“You should not have challenged me.” Erik, sure of his victory, rose and straightened out his clothes. “Now that this matter is behind us…”

Houmayoun did not even twitch in response. He lay stiff and still where he fell.

“What’s the matter, have you died?” Erik felt slightly irritated with himself. He had meant to subdue his rival, or at worst, injure him a little. But, if the other rat died from just a little bit of fighting, was Erik really to blame? Houmayoun had just been weaker than he thought. It was no great loss.

Erik tugged his rival to his feet by the scruff of his neck. It was then that Houmayoun turned around and showed, almost to Erik’s disappointment, that he was still alive. The big rat’s eyes were wide in fear, and as he opened his mouth in a high-pitched shriek, a piece of fabric fluttered out. Reflexively, Erik raised a hand to his face and realized in horror he had been unmasked during the scuffle.

“Y-You’re a monster!” Houmayoun screamed. “A terrible monster! A-and you want to join us?”

Panic broke out in the cage. Houmayoun threw himself at the bars of the cage, trying desperately to fit his head between the spaces. Two of the other rats imitated him, giving in to their primal urge to escape. The remaining three were frozen in fear, trying to understand what Erik was.

Meanwhile, Erik’s emotions shifted from his initial panic to the stinging pain of rejection, and then finally settled on rage. Rage was supposed to be a fog, dampening thoughts and senses. Yet for Erik’s rage left him terribly clear-headed. He wanted Houmayoun to suffer, and he knew exactly how to do it. With a flick of his head, the rope held in his mouth flew out and wound around the offending rat’s hind leg. Erik turned and ran, yanking his shrieking, terrified opponent to the ground. The sudden lurching knocked the wind out of the big rat. As he lay dazed on the floor, Erik, still cursed with an angry, single-minded, clarity, proceeded with the next stage of his revenge. With expert hands and mouth, he threw the rope over the wire roof of his cage, and then pulled, hoisting the limp rat into the air like a banner.

Basking in his victory, Erik’s rage drained away from him, leaving him exhausted. He looked toward the other rats; they were cowering. He looked toward the humans outside; they were clapping.

“Splendid! Isn’t he a fierce little warrior?” The Shah laughed, beckoning to the nervous rat keepers. “He shall soon have a weapon that suits him.”

Too tired to struggle, or even to pay much attention to what was going on, Erik was lifted out from his cage and subjected to a series of measurements. When he returned to his cage, he could see that Houmayoun had also been removed. He did not care what would happen to the other rat, so long as he never needed to see him again.

The rat keepers blew on their whistles, issuing an order to the four remaining rats. They had obviously been trained well, for they responded quickly despite their fear. For the next hour or so, the rats performed an acrobatics routine for the Shah and his consort. Behind them, Erik watched, making a note of which parts needed improvement, and how he should incorporate them into his next performance.

A few birds, the stragglers who were not drawn toward warmer climates during winter, landed on the grass, attracted by the scents and the sounds. They serenaded the royal party with their special songs, and were rewarded with scraps of bread. With music and dance and laughter, a good time was had by all. Even Erik found himself nodding along to the birdsong, his fatigue forgotten.

Once the picnic drew to a close, all the rats, Erik included, were ushered into the box that had been carried by a pageboy. One of the birds, a red-billed chough, flew after the procession hungrily, but eventually realized that the rats were safely guarded and turned away. The bell-rope in Erik’s cage needed repairs, so for the time being, the rats were to stay in a plainer, but still spacious cage.

After their trainers left, most of the rats huddled into a pile. Only Erik was off in his own corner, watching them jealously. How he craved the same intimacy! The same affection! Then, he chided himself for his foolishness. They were meant to be company for him; otherwise, they would not share a cage. There was no shame in approaching them and joining their activities.

Rallying his confidence, he slipped toward his fellow rats and squeezed, as inconspicuously as possible, next to one of them. For a moment, he was lost in a paradise of soft, smooth fur. But just as he relaxed, a savage kick sent him rolling away.

“Get away! I won’t let you hurt anyone else!”

Erik raised his head to see the outraged golden female placing herself protectively before the rest of the pack. Anger flared up within him, but then it was smothered by guilt as he remembered she had been Houmayoun’s lieutenant. She had a good reason to be furious with him.

Erik would not attack her; nor would he apologize, as the pack’s former leader had deserved any suffering Erik inflicted on him. With a weary sigh, he undid the lock to the cage and left. Perhaps the other rats would follow him out, perhaps not; he could not find the energy to care.

* * *

To Erik’s consternation, the old Daroga was nowhere to be found in the usual areas of his house. Erik was left to pace the study, and then Reza’s room, impatiently. After still not catching sight of Nadir for several minutes, he wandered into the sunken courtyard to see if his friend was enjoying the sun.

While he could not find Nadir, his attention was soon occupied by a rich, sweet aroma that permeated the air. On a small, round, bronze coffee table, a blue-and-white porcelain bowl and spoon were set out. Erik scampered up the table and peered into the bowl, holding onto the edge with his little hands. He shivered from ears to tail as he felt a burst of cold. The bowl was half-filled with scoops of ice and short, thin noodles, sitting in a crystal red liquid. It was beautiful, like the bleeding heart of a forlorn lover.

Erik felt compelled to lick his lips. He had never loved sweets the way other rats did, but the icy substance in the bowl was different. A crisp hint of rose complimented sumptuous cream and tangy pomegranate; the fragrance lingered in the back of his throat, a phantom beckoning him to take a taste.

He leaned further over the bowl, sniffing deeply. He meant to bend just far enough to take a quick lick, but lost his balance and plunged in head-first. He jumped as he came into contact with the ice. As he landed, he slipped and fell back down. Chattering furiously, he clambered up and tried to clean away the cold fragments coating him. His eyes widened as he took a lick and found it tasted as delicious as it smelled.

For once, unable to resist his appetite, Erik turned and nibbled on one of the icy chunks in the bowl. The taste and texture were amazing: crunchy noodles and soft cream, flavored with rose and pomegranate and chilled with ice. He kept eating, bigger and bigger mouthfuls. It was just cold enough, and sweet enough, to numb the turbulent emotions in his heart.

* * *

Humming to himself, Darius walked out to the courtyard. Earlier, the noon sunshine had tricked his master into recalling warmer times and reawakened the Daroga’s summer cravings. He had requested Darius prepare him some of the traditional cold dessert _faloodeh_ using the season’s freshly harvested ice, combined with frozen cream and rose and pomegranate _sharbat_. Unfortunately, the Daroga had been only halfway through his snack when his bowels protested the frigid ordeal he had subjected them to, and so he was compelled to relieve their burden. A warm drink had cured his ills, but the delicious _faloodeh_ would be left woefully unfinished, a testament to man’s folly in defying the seasons. After that little incident, master and servant had spent a while discussing plans for the upcoming Festival of Mourning, _Ashura_ , until Darius was dispatched to clear the outdoor table.

As Darius bent to pick up the bowl, he discovered that his master had indulged more than he thought, because the bowl was nearly empty, except for a few stray ice shavings here and there, and a large red scoop sitting in the spoon, sparkling in the light. He smiled at the thought of his master honestly enjoying something that did not involve ugly, hairless rats. It was a sign that the old Daroga was recovering from his grief.

Just then, he noticed scraps of cloth thrown haphazardly over the table and the edge of the bowl. Upon closer examination, they turned out to be tiny, but finely made clothes. His face blanched as he finally noticed that the lump in the spoon was quivering. Starch noodles and ice fragments were sticking out in awkward in awkward directions on its surface, and the long, pink ribbon trailing from the spoon was no noodle.

While Darius would not call himself a particularly brave man, he had experienced all manners of things in service to his master, and prided himself on his dedication to duty and stoicism. Nevertheless, faced with this horrifying and nauseating sight, he could no longer keep calm. He screamed.

Nadir dashed into the courtyard, hat askew, pistol drawn, eyes and ears alert. He found the area empty, except for Darius, who was glaring murderously at the sorbet bowl.

“Sir! There! THAT THING…!” The rest of Darius’ words degenerated into unintelligible gibberish as he gestured furiously at the bowl.

Still on alert, Nadir gripped his gun tightly as he looked down at the object in question. At first, he was puzzled by why Darius was panicking at the final remaining scoop of _faloodeh_. However, he soon noticed the same things that Darius had. It was not a scoop of _faloodeh_ lying in the spoon.

“Erik!” He exclaimed as he recognized his little friend. The naked rat was a strange sight to behold. He was dyed red from _sharbat_ , and ice and noodles enveloped him like a fleece. As Nadir realized that Erik had certainly eaten all of the _faloodeh_ , he felt a sinking worry in his stomach.

Erik opened his eyes a sliver in reaction to the loud noises. His head ached, his stomach churned, and he was cold and exhausted all over. Egged on by a sudden burst of maniac energy, he had removed his clothes to keep them clean while he buried himself in the dessert and ate. Before he knew it, he had eaten the entire mound of iced noodles. His belly full, the spoon became a comfortable bed for him as he dozed off. In hindsight that had not been the wisest of ideas, but the _faloodeh_ had been too delicious.

Nadir fretted dropped his gun. He reached into the bowl. “What were you thinking? You can’t eat so much _faloodeh_! It’s too cold for you, and too sweet.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you great meddling booby!” Erik snapped. He felt ill, with a deathly chill running through his body, and the last thing he needed to hear was the Daroga’s nagging. He tried to stand up, but the world spun, and he collapsed into Nadir’s hand. He shuddered as Nadir lifted him out of the bowl. “Oh Daroga, hold me for a little longer. I am about to die.”

Nadir quickly cupped his hands around Erik and called out to Darius. “Warm up some water. Hurry!”

“S-sir!” Darius sputtered, “The bowl! The creature was in your bowl!”

“Yes, and what of it?” Nadir snapped. “I need hot water, now!”

Darius stood still in wide-eyed shock. His master was panicking over a malformed rat, with no regard as to how the disgusting creature had sullied their food. He almost objected, but he did not want to distress his master any further. Instead, he made a face and grabbed the contaminated bowl, then quickly made his way to the kitchen.

“Why are you yelling?” Erik grumbled. “I told you, I am going to die.”

He looked almost comical, weeping and moaning while covered in _sharbat_. Yet Nadir knew little about caring for rats. His mind was clouded with the fear that Erik truly was dying. The rat’s usually cold, clammy skin was even colder now, and he had a dazed look in his eyes. Nadir rubbed and kneaded Erik’s back, trying to warm him.

Erik sighed contently. He still had a headache and a sore stomach, but Nadir’s motions were wonderfully relaxing. “This is not a bad way to die, Daroga…”

Nadir carried Erik into the house, still rubbing along his back. Under his efforts, Erik’s body began warming up. Meanwhile, Darius finished preparing a bowl of warm water and towels. Sitting down in the parlor, Nadir took a towel, dipped it in the water, and tried to clean Erik’s face.

“No.” Erik protested, squirming in Nadir’s grasp. “Erik will never be loved, so at least let him remain a pretty color!”

Nadir tsked his tongue, exasperated with Erik’s antics. “Stop being silly. You can’t go around like this.”

“You’re right. Erik is hideous. A change of color cannot hide that.” Erik whimpered, dejected, bidding a goodbye to all his pretty coloring as Nadir wiped his face. However, he soon relaxed and eased into the cleaning as the soft, warm towel caressed him.

Nadir worked as quickly as he could, bathing and drying Erik and wrapping him in a warm towel. By the time he was done, the rat had ceased whimpering and closed his eyes. Nadir’s heart almost stopped. He thought he had lost his little friend until Erik twitched, indicating he had only relaxed and gone to sleep. Letting out the breath that he had been holding, he gave Erik a pet on the head, then placed him on a cushion next to him. 

Now that Erik no longer had his clothes, nor even bandages to hide his form, Nadir had a clear look at the full extent of his emaciated limbs, his pale and wrinkled skin, and the multitude of scars crossing his body. Some of them were new, left over from the unfortunate encounter with the rat maidens. Others were older, and spoke of a harsh life, fraught with pain and danger.

All of a sudden, he was flooded with painful memories of the other Erik. He recalled how the young man hid physical and mental scars behind his imposing façade. He recalled, also, how Erik had sought comfort at his house. He and his family had been a refuge for that unhappy boy, but in the end, he could not protect Erik. Instead, he stood and watched as Erik gave his life for him.

Nadir gently tapped Erik the rat’s front paw with a finger. Erik might be just a rat, but he almost believed that their friendship was his second chance to help Erik. He would not fail again.

* * *

Half an hour later, Erik woke up, mostly rejuvenated. His head was still a bit fuzzy, but he was still woefully alive. He crawled half way out of his snug towel den, and then realized he was naked. With a humiliated squawk, he dived back into the folds of the towel.

“Daroga! Where are my clothes?”

Nadir turned away, trying hard not to laugh. He was, nevertheless, relieved that Erik seemed as energetic as always. Any illness he experienced, then, were but the aftereffects of gorging. “They are hanging out to dry. You were quite the messy eater.”

“I see. Then, it seems I shall have to stay here for a while.” Erik said, showing no sign of reluctance.

“I shall try to be a good host. Now, would you like some warm soup?” Nadir asked with a grin.

“I expect something well-made.” Erik replied haughtily. To tell the truth, he was not very hungry at all, but he needed something warm to balance out the chill in his stomach.

Nadir retrieved a little dish of _Ash-e Jo_ , traditional barley soup. He placed it close enough to Erik, so his little friend could eat without leaving the confines of his towel. Erik sipped at it gratefully. The mild, tangy flavor was a good counter to the intense sweetness from before

Now that Erik was calm and comfortable. Nadir finally asked, “So, can you tell me why you decided to eat half a bowl of my _faloodeh_?”

Erik averted his eyes and shrank away. Now that he had calmed down, he realized how embarrassing his behavior was. “Erik had a few difficulties with his new pack, that is all. And you would still have your snack if you remembered to not be away right as you are needed.”

“A new pack?”

“Yes, they will be my assistants,” Erik explained enthusiastically, “You shall see them soon, Daroga.”

“I look forward to it.” Nadir was a little wary, remembering Erik’s previous introduction to other rats.

“They are scared of Erik now, but he still has a chance, doesn’t he, Daroga? He shall impress them yet!” Erik rambled on, a hint of anxiety creeping into his mannerisms.

“I hope so.” Nadir said, as calm and supportive as possible. Erik was in a mood to try to please others. It was better than sinking into self-pity. “Remember to be patient.”

“Oh, Erik can be patient. Very, very patient.” Erik suddenly became quiet and pensive. Not daring to lift his eyes, he muttered, “And…and if that does not work…can I stay here, with you? You said I was enough…”

In that instant, Nadir felt God was testing him. He knew he could not fail. He seized Erik in an embrace. “Of course! You are welcome here, at any time, for however long.”

Erik squeaked in surprise, and then looked up hopefully. “And if I never want to go back to the palace?

“Then I’ll retire, and I’ll take you far away.” Nadir was unsure how he would fulfill this promise, since Erik was royal property, but he would not abandon Erik in his hour of need.

Tears of joy welled up in Erik’s eyes. He could barely eat his soup after that, nor did he need to. He had all the warmth he needed at that moment.

* * *

After Erik finished his meal, Nadir brought him, still bundled in the towel, to the library. There, they both became engrossed in reading. As the afternoon passed into evening, their time together was interrupted twice by Nadir’s daily prayers, but more often by both their churning stomachs.

“Let that be a warning for both of us,” Nadir said, “to leave summer desserts for the summer.”

In truth, he was almost glad for the constant interruptions. He had wrapped up all his biggest cases, leaving only the usual bazaar complaints—a theft here, a fraud there, an occasional political dissident or hooligan. Instead, what now occupied his time was Erik’s diary. His time with Erik the rat had given him courage to take pride in his friendship with Erik. However, reflecting on Erik, he realized that as many secrets the masked boy had entrusted him with, there were still more secrets hidden away. He wanted to know more about Erik, to share in the joys and pains that shaped Erik into who he was. And so, he had turned to the diary, but even as he opened it, he knew he was committing an intrusion into Erik’s deepest thoughts. Having Erik the rat at his side did not help, for he felt as if Erik was alive and looking over his shoulder.

Still, Nadir persisted. He wanted to truly know and remember his friend.

“ _I have served with the Shah for three months._ ” the diary began, “ _Currently, I am settled at the royal winter retreat of Mazandaran. They say that this is the land of the demons, a perfect place for me to make my home. Yet I find the land beautiful and the people unobtrusive. Of all the jokes that God has played on me, this is the least painful._ ”

* * *

The next morning, Darius scowled as he watched the ugly rat, now fully clothed, bade Nadir goodbye. He had spent much of the previous afternoon cleaning the kitchen and various utensils, trying hard not to be ill the entire time. His master might have no objection in letting the rat come and go as it pleased, but Darius knew it was a terrible, unclean little beast. He went to morning prayers determined to find a chance to complain about the creature to his master. So long as his master was happy, he was willing to accept the vermin as a pet, but it could not be allowed to contaminate their food.

Since Nadir spent much of the day either at work or locked in the library, it was late into the afternoon when Darius caught sight of him and prepared to air his grievance. However, one look at his master made his resolve falter, for a quiet despair had entered into the Daroga’s green eyes.

* * *

The Shah’s banquet was, as usual, an exciting occasion. For the second time, the magical little manikin put on a stupendous performance. The true excitement for Erik, though, came after the show. His keepers brought forward a length of red, leathery cord. It was secured to his belt with utmost reverence. They whispered to each other praises of Zabaniyya, the fierce punishing angel, and how Erik would go on to do great things.

Back in his cage, Erik practiced various tricks with his red rope. They were much tamer, and less painful stunts, than the one that had earned him his new prop. that His new pack, still sharing his living quarters, seemed impressed with his show. He was glad to explain his techniques to them, for it meant their relationship was improving. After practicing alongside his pack for an hour, he headed out to share his new trick with his friend Nadir.

He found the old man bent over in supplication in the dimly lit prayer room. Reminded of their first meeting, Erik scrambled onto Nadir’s shoulder. He snickered as he imagined the shock his friend would surely receive. That would teach the Daroga to waste all his time in prayer.

To Erik’s disappointment, when Nadir finally raised his head, he did not give him an expression of shock or defeat, but weariness. “Not now, Erik,” was all he would say.  
Erik sulked as he was sent to wait in the library. The minutes trickled by until, at long last, Nadir entered. He had not even settled down at his desk when Erik bombarded him with questions about his thoughts on the banquet.

“It was as I expected.” Nadir replied flatly.

Erik was so enthusiastic he failed to notice Nadir’s downcast mood. He said, scoffing, “They are nothing. I shall show you something more impressive. You are my first human audience!”

He drew his red rope forward and, with a flick of his head, sent it wrapping around the tip of the inkwell lid. With a gentle pull, he lifted the lid off the opening. He turned back to Nadir, expecting praises and applause, but found, to his shock, the Daroga cringing away from him, ashen-faced.

Confused, Erik crawled forward. He quickly retreated when he saw a tear slipping down Nadir’s cheek and into his beard. Confusion became horror and then remorse as he realized he had somehow frightened his only friend, the same friend who had always cared for him and welcome him.

Then again, he should have expected this. He was a hideous, horrible monster, made for frightening people.

“Daroga?” He ventured to call out to him. “Daroga, why are you crying...Why are you afraid, Daroga? I just wanted to make you laugh…”

After a short silence, Nadir said bitterly, “You are exactly like Erik now, down to the lasso in your belt. Will you do as he did then, and hurt others even as you hurt yourself?”

“They deserve it!” Erik snapped. He did not remember the significance of the lasso, but he knew that he only brought his wrath down upon whoever offended him first. “What the matter with a rope trick or two, huh? Some swinging through the air will still wagging tongues!”

“Erik, no!” Nadir exclaimed, appalled. “No more of these ‘rope tricks!’ Don’t do things you’ll regret!”

“Who are you to say what I’ll regret?” Erik snarled, growing more hurt and irate every second. Nadir, who wanted nothing beyond their friendship, who had comforted him and nursed him the worst of times, who had made him all these beautiful promises just last night, was now disappointed in him, and all for the length of rope he held in his teeth.

“What happened to your promise?” Nadir cried, desperately holding to the hope that Erik might still be swayed.

Erik remembered the promises he and Nadir had exchanged. Yet, he could not feel guilty for his attack on Houmayoun, nor would he have guilt for using the rope afterwards. If Nadir was telling the truth, he had already come too far. He was Erik, and he was _Zabaniyya_. “Promises are only good for catching gulls with. That’s just the sort of person I am. You should know that, friend.”

Nadir slumped back in defeat. He admitted, shakily, “I looked into Erik’s diary today. There were such terrible thoughts…Please, Erik, you must not let your darkness consume you!”

Erik understood the implications behind Nadir’s words, and each one of them stabbed into his heart. His friend had seen what Erik truly was, and now knew he was a monster. He was devastated, but even as rage and the pain of betrayal welled up inside him, he could not hate Nadir. The old man had tried his best to be Erik’s friend and showed him a lifetime’s worth of kindness. Erik could only hate the cruel fate that seemed to follow him at every turn. He was tired, of his life, of his luck, of this entire world that seemed to exist to torture him. He hissed out, “I have always been a creature of darkness, and I always will be. You cannot change me, Daroga.”

He slipped away and leapt off the table even as Nadir reached out to him. The old Daroga, left alone in the library, buried his face in his hands and wept. Everything was happening too quickly. He and Erik were repeating the same mistakes that led to the original Erik’s tragic death.


	8. Interesting Musings of an Angel of Death

Out in the garden, sleet fell from the sky. The Shah and his family huddled in a domed pavilion that functioned as the palace’s theatre, watching a _Ta’ziyeh_ show re-enacting the tragic Battle of Karbala and the martyrdom of Imam Husayn and his companions. The mournful music and pounding drops were the perfect accompaniment for Erik’s brokenhearted wails.

Upon returning to the palace last night, he had found the four rats who shared his cage wandering about, exploring their new home. He was briefly tempted to join them and give them a tour, but after his acrimonious parting from Nadir, he was in no mood to risk any more rejections. Instead, he had retreated to his secret passages, where he could lament his misery with no one witnessing his weakness.

For a long while, he had dashed madly through the palace, until he reached a perch high in the rafters. There, he had wept over his painful existence, until he fell into an exhausted sleep. Upon awaking in the morning he was instantly reminded, by the empty landscape beneath him, that he was a wretch doomed to be alone forever. He cried again, and it seemed he would never run out of tears.

“Oh, take your crying somewhere else, you stupid thing.” Erik was interrupted by a chough’s irritated cawing. The big, black bird came stomping along the ledge, gesticulating with its wings, its feathers puffed in anger. “You’re the freaky rat that performs for the humans, aren’t you? Your racket is bothering my kids! I’d eat you if you didn’t look so disgusting right now. Go away!”

Erik composed himself and considered his options. The bird was much bigger than he was, and though he was armed with his lasso, his breaths were short and his eyes were bleary from the time he spent crying. They were up in the air, close to the garden, in a familiar territory for the bird. His foe had every advantage. Glaring at the bird, Erik slowly backed away. It was time for him to return to his cage and rehearse for his next performance, anyway.

“That’s right! Go on! Get out of here! And don’t let me see you up here again!” The bird called as Erik scrambled down the pillars.

Erik made a note to find a way to repay the bird for this humiliation. Perhaps it would not be anytime soon, but once he found a chance, he would have his revenge.

* * *

Erik carefully slid into his cage, shutting the door behind him. Even so, one of the sleeping rats rose and opened her eyes.

“…Sir?” She asked cautiously. “Where did you go? You’re all filthy.”

Erik tried to ignore her. He was well aware that after his excursion last night, his appearance was less than presentable. All he wanted to do was clean himself, then channel the storm in his mind into choreographing his new magic show.

The rat maiden watched as Erik dusted off his clothes. Then, emboldened by his silence, she continued, “The humans were very worried about you. They were running around and making all sorts of noise.”

Erik rolled his beady red eyes under his mask. “That is none of your business. The humans, you will learn, are all fools who easily panic at the strangest of things.”

She nodded, visibly relieved. “If you say so, sir…But that black cat was there too. And she said…if you didn’t come back, she would eat us. It was so scary…”

The mention of his old enemy lit a fuse within him. Possessed by an explosive rage, he roared, “Cease your prattling, you insolent girl!”

He kicked the nearest chew toy and sent it flying. It struck the bars with a terrible clang.

The rat maiden shrieked. Erik regained his senses. He saw her sobbing and shrinking away. Immediately, he blazed with shame. She had been concerned for him, and he was behaving atrociously.

“My apologies,” he mumbled, “I am not myself today.”

By this time, his noise had woken the other rats. The large, golden female stood at the head of the pack and snarled at him. Erik’s anger flared up again. He knew he had to remove himself from the cage, before he was tempted to hurt her or any of the others.

He tore open the door and rushed out. The other rats ducked down as he slammed the door behind him, hard enough to shake the cage. The rat keepers rushed in, alerted by the sudden noise. They called to Erik and snatched at him, but he ducked away from their hands and wove between their feet, making a skillful escape.

Erik wandered aimlessly through the many corridors. He could not return to his cage, nor could he visit Nadir. He was now alone in this wide, miserable world. He finally stopped when he smelled a cat. Usually, he would have speedily and silently sought out a hiding place. Now, however, he lingered and let out a cry of anguish as he realized he stood in the very place he had first met Nadir.

For a moment, he considered remaining still and allowing the cat to find him. It would be better than living on, surrounded by reminders of the happiness he had lost. He changed his mind once he heard the clinking of a jeweled collar and saw the shiny black fur.

Sultana! She, of all cats, will not be the one to end him! He would not grant her that honor, that satisfaction. Squeaking a curse, he turned and ran.

Sultana bolted forward as soon as she heard a squeak. It was over in a second as she pounced and secured her prey.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” She purred smugly as she lifted her paw. Immediately, she was disappointed to find nothing but air underneath. She had been fast, but Erik had been faster. By the time she pounced, Erik had already dived into one of his hidden doors. She made an exasperated noise. “I know you’re here, _Zabaniyya_.”

Erik could not resist taunting her. He sent his voice creeping in her ear “Then we are even. Except, I can see exactly where you are, and you cannot do the same.”

“You can hear me as well.” The Sultana lay down languidly, tucking her limbs under her. “What a peculiar way to have a conversation.”

“No more peculiar than any other way.” Erik cackled. “Ah, you must keep track of me though. Am I in your left ear? Or your right? Or somewhere above?”

Sultana tried to follow along with his voice, but soon gave up. Still relaxed and cheerful, she remarked, “Wherever you are, I’m glad you’re back. I was worried you’d be gone for good. You’re the only one who knows my favorite games.”

Erik scoffed, “I did not return here to play your games.”

“Even if you did, I only want to play while you’re at your best. You’re in a horrible state right now” Almost gently, Sultana asked, “Did you have a fight with that Daroga of yours?”

Erik’s entire body tensed. “How do you know?”

“I’ve seen the way you cozy up to him whenever he comes to the palace.” She waited a little while to let her words sink in. “You must’ve gone to him during all those times you’ve run off. So, why are you running around here crying? Wouldn’t you be with him, unless he no longer wanted you around?”

Erik’s stomach churned and his mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. He felt incredibly violated. He thought he had taken every precaution, that he had used all his genius to weave a web of subterfuge which kept his relationship with Nadir his best-guarded secret. Now, he realized he had been lulled into a false sense of security and exposed his foolishness for all to see. He finally hissed out a response. “I applaud your clever deductions, Madame, whether or not they are accurate.”

Sultana chuckled and shook her head. “I thought you, of all creatures, would know better than to trust a human. They’re such strange, indecisive things. What, then, was so special about the Daroga?”

“Nothing! HE IS A GREAT BOOBY! I have no more associations with him! You can be sure of that!” Erik snarled. He was not sure who he wanted to protect, himself, or his former friend. “That is all I have to say.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have plenty more to say. Tell me all about it. All that time you spent with him”

Erik hated the sheer presumptuousness in her voice and manner. With every word, Sultana intruded a little more into his personal world. She unraveled his defenses until he could no longer hide anything from her.

He wanted to turn around and leave. Let her wait and never receive an answer! That would teach her a lesson! Yet, he hesitated.

His heart was ready to burst from the pain of rejection. He needed someone to listen to the chaotic thoughts devouring him, even if it was Sultana.

He finally surrendered to her and let forth his confession.

* * *

Nadir Khan’s brows knit into a deep frown as he and Darius conversed. In a mere matter of days, it would be _Ashura_ , the Festival of Mourning. Yet, they were concerned with not pious reflection, but a secular subject: public security. Those who could afford it had departed the province to go on pilgrimage, but substantial numbers of people remained and would observe the holiday at home. On _Ashura_ , throngs of the faithful would pour onto the streets, lamenting Imam Husayn, paying tribute at the _Hussainiya_ congregation halls, parading the symbolic coffins called _nakhl_ , even flagellating themselves so they could share Imam Husayn’s suffering. As the head of police, Nadir was in charge of maintaining order amid the activity. He especially had to ensure the areas around the royal palace and the estates of local elites and foreign investors were well-guarded.

For many hours, he and Darius had discussed where to station policemen and what activities to watch out for. However, he only gave half of his attention to Darius’ current proposal. In the back of his mind, Erik’s journal haunted him. Each entry offered a deeper look into the tortured genius’s mind, and that mind was nothing short of a demented nightmare.

 _“The streets of the city are always filled with beggars,_ ” one entry said, “ _impoverished, unhappy souls. They crouch at the crossroads or hide away in the alleys. There are young and old, men and women, wrapped in their torn, filthy clothing, hobbling along, leaning on their sticks. Some bear the ravages of illness; others have been robbed of their wits or senses or limbs. Still others are much like myself, misshapen by the cruel hand of nature. Hope, or at least some spark of life, only comes into them as they receive their alms. And, once one of them receives any charity, however small, hordes of them gather around the donor like flies over carrion. They disgust me. How can any human be reduced to this? The glittering estates sprinkled over the city hold the answer. The cause of their wretchedness is less their own misfortune, than the injustice of their fellow men. Funny, that a select few men should hoard the nation’s wealth, even as they pray to a God who has set **charity** as of the five cardinal pillars. These elites hold themselves to be better than the scum littering the streets because of their connections to the royal family or European investors. Yet, if you cut them open and examine their innards, beggar and prince both look the same. But that is a story for another time. Most of the common folk in the city are not much better off than the beggars. They never spare more than a pittance in charity, lest they endanger their own livelihoods. In this, at least, I am more fortunate than the rest; His Majesty has seen to it that I would not bankrupt myself feeding a few hundred extra mouths! And yet, there is only so much that I can do, even if I were to walk the streets every waking hour, with my pockets filled with gold. That is why I dream of throwing a feast, and gathering for the guests all the most indigent and wretched of people. No expenses will be spared. It will be a feast as exquisite as any ever prepared for a prince. There will be the best of food and drink. Soft bread and richly prepared meats, and plenty of desserts for the little ones. All of it will follow my special recipes. The guests will be given warm, luxurious clothes to change into. They will sit on soft silk cushions and witness the most magical of entertainments. There will be singing and dancing and laughter. The guests will have everything they ask for. They will enjoy one perfect moment of happiness, and then they will lie down and sleep; a beautiful, eternal sleep, of my own making. Those who refuse to simply lie down are rocked to sleep by my rope and my lullaby. Quiet, happy, painless. They will be free from this miserable existence. No more suffering through sickness, starvation, cold, or man’s cruelty. That would be the greatest charity I can give them._”

“ _Today I saw a donkey being savagely beaten by its owner._ ” Another entry said. “ _The poor thing had stumbled and spilled its load of fruit preserves. And small wonder that it would fall, too—it was small and scrawny and obviously panting under its heavy baskets. Rather than it being guilty of clumsiness, its owner was guilty of idiocy. Yet the innocent animal was the one punished for the mishap. This injustice could make even a dead man’s stilled blood boil in rage, as it did mine. That poor, unhappy creature! It was exhausted and needed rest, and thus followed its nature. Still, his human partner chose to abuse it. Why? Because it was uglier and stupider than himself? Because it was too loyal to complain? Not enough that he had placed all his heavy load upon the animal, but he would not even allow it a short respite. He thought only of the profits he might get in the bazaar, and not of his animal’s suffering. In this, he is an excellent sample of humanity, callously cruel and always ready to lay the blame on others. After a while, the donkey, bruised but sufficiently energized, rose and was dragged through the streets by its owner. I followed them and memorized their stall at the bazaar. At the close of day, I returned and trailed after them. I cornered them in a dusty courtyard, within a crumbling tenement. The vendor had but secured his donkey in the shared stables when I slipped my yoke around his neck. I pulled him out into the yard and commanded him to carry the millstone on his back. I then dragged him for circles around the yard. He begged mercy, now that he was the beast of burden. Well, who was he to expect mercy from me, when he had no mercy for an innocent animal. I made him run until he collapsed in exhaustion, and no amount of beating could inspire him to stand. The noise from our activities somehow disturbed the donkeys, and they sent out brays that roused the human residents. They poured into the yard, and a child rushed to my side, sobbing and begging me to release his father. As a favor to the donkey, I avenged him on his cruel owner, and, as a favor to the child, I showed that owner the mercy he could not show another. I gave him a stern warning to never again mistreat an animal, and he offered the tearful excuse that his wife was in ill-health, and he had been desperate to earn money to pay for her treatment. Under the flickering candlelight streaming from the building’s windows, I noticed that father and son were as thin and dirty as their donkey. One would think that their shared suffering would produce some solidarity between man and beast, but the man still considered himself lord and master. Such is the way with humans. They must torment someone yet more unfortunate to comfort themselves in their misfortune. I decided that a permanent solution was in order. I examined the wife and diagnosed her with a womanly ailment; I gave them a prescription, and left enough money for them to purchase a ready supply. They were not as grateful as they should have been (indeed, they seemed scared and scandalized), but they were cooperative. As a reward, I took possession of their overworked donkey. It is currently housed on my estate, where I am tending to its wounds. Woe to that vendor if he ever abuses another animal as he did this one! I know where he sells his wares, and where he lives, and next time, nothing will keep him from my wrath._ ”

The journal went on. Erik slandered the Shah as a cross-eyed, decadent fool who would rather bury himself in his wives’ skirts than decide the course of his empire. He thought the ladies of the harem were either disgusting pigs past their prime, or vicious temptresses who needed to be taught painful lessons about toying with vulnerable hearts and minds. He decried the various royal advisors and entertainers as greedy, simpering sycophants who drained the nation’s resources. None were spared his misanthropic commentary, not even himself. He painted a bleak portrait of Persia, as well as the rest of the world. But bleaker still was Erik’s daily existence. He detailed fantasies of revenge against the world that scorned him and concocted grotesque tortures. But, remembering his misdeeds, he would also be consumed by guilt and self-loathing. Then there were the fits of loneliness. Sheer despair bled through every word. He was hounded at every turn by the Shah’s demands and his own demons. And, while he had happy stories about Nadir’s family, their love was not enough. Not even music, his greatest love, was any solace to him. Often, he numbed himself with elixirs, just so he could have a fleeting moment of peace. His desperation was apparent in his writing, which trailed off into absurd, almost illegible ramblings every time he slipped into intoxication.

As Nadir finished his readings, he felt his heart and mind break. He always wanted to think the best of his friend, to hope that Erik had some inner spark of goodness. However, the journal reminded him that Erik was far from a kind, misunderstood soul. Still, despite all he had seen, he could not think of Erik as purely evil either. There were glimmers of hope and goodness in his confessions of darkest depravity, and the shadows of rage and insanity in his kindest acts. The best and worst parts of his personality clashed and intermingled, and shone forward in a single instant. He was the embodiment of humanity’s potential, both for unlimited goodness and unlimited evil.

His thoughts on Erik now were more complicated and confusing than they had ever been. The more he looked into Erik’s mind, the less he understood him.  
Then there was the matter of the other Erik. It was absurd to blame Erik the rat for the original Erik’s crimes, but how could he think of them separately, when Erik the rat so resembled the original Erik? However, in his rush to save Erik the rat, he had destroyed their friendship. Now, he could only watch as Erik the rat walked Erik’s old path.

“What do think of that, sir?”

Darius’ question caught the old Daroga off-guard. He nodded along, still distracted.

“I’ll assemble the police squads then.”

“Thank you, Darius.” Nadir said, suppressing a yawn. He had not slept well last night. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt that he would be thrown into one of the scenes from Erik’s writings.

“No need overwork yourself, sir. The policemen know to be careful around this time.” Darius reassured his master. He naturally believed the Daroga was stressed over his work.

“I’ll be alright.” Nadir replied. He honestly wished that his work could be his only concern.

* * *

Erik crept back into his cage. He felt empty, drained of not just energy, but also emotion. For the past several minutes, he had divulged some of his deepest secrets to Sultana, and as he did so, his rage bled away, leaving not relief, but numbness in its place.

The other rats had moved into one of the upstairs rooms. Erik clambered up the stairwell to check on them. Most of them shied away when they sensed his arrival, but the rat maiden from before remained. She quickly averted her eyes when he looked toward her, but he only silently nodded at her, acknowledging her presence. She nodded back at him.

Erik cleared his throat. His voice sounded strange as it left his mouth, as if it were not quite his own. Certainly, he spoke more civilly, and more hesitantly, than he had previously. “Ah…I see you’ve found the upstairs…would you…like a tour?”

The other rats looked to each other, confused by this turn of events. However, when Erik made no sudden movements, the little rat maiden spoke up. “It’s just a tour, isn’t it? It can’t hurt.”

The large golden female frowned, but the remaining male in her pack nudged her. “Suri’s right, Mahta. Even if he has any traps, it’s still four of us to one of him.”  
  
As the other rats voiced their agreement, Mahta finally nodded. “Go ahead. Show us your secrets, _Zabaniyya_.”

Erik showed them all the special features in his cage. It was not simply luxurious, but also craftily made. There was a trapdoor in the bottom that allowed Erik to come and go unnoticed, as well as a mechanism in the bell tower that emitted smoke. To his delight, the other rats seemed very interested in these features, and listened intently as he explained how he used them during his performances.

He learned quite a few things from the other rats too. The smallest rat maiden was Suri, a name that matched her well because of the shiny cinnamon color of her fur. She was the youngest of the bunch, and her specialty was juggling. The dark-furred male rat was Arash, and he and his sister Dunya were acrobats. The big golden female, who had once been Houmayoun’s lieutenant, was Mahta. She was a dancer, and the oldest among them. She was the only remaining among a litter of six girls, who had been raised by a travelling entertainer. They, along with Houmayoun, had chosen the others for their pack, and helped them develop their talents. Mahta’s sisters had been taken away one day, and never returned. Mahta herself was left behind because she had already mated with Houmayoun. She liked living in this new cage, because it carried a hint of her sisters’ scents.

For the first time, Erik and the rats communicated with each other. Their tensions eased up, and they continued to work together in the coming days. With Erik’s guidance, the rats coordinated their acts into a cohesive performance. They were reaching artistic heights together. Suri especially advanced quickly, impressing even Erik with her quick sleights of hand.

Erik was happy. He finally had companions of his own kind. They talked to him and listened to him and appreciated his talents. The few times Sultana showed up to bother them, the rats turned to Erik for protection. He was proud to say that he only lost his temper badly once during this time, when Sultana had pried too much into his affection for Suri. He was still not allowed to snuggle with her or any of the others while they slept, but he felt they only needed a few more days to fully accept him. He rarely left his cage now; almost all his time was spent training his rat pack.

One day, everything was eerily silent. The rat-keepers gave each other scared glances when they fed the rats. The cats, ignored and left to wander about on their own, shuffled about with their head down, looking up and mewling pitifully whenever a human rushed by. Even the rats were affected by the awkward atmosphere, skittering around nervously. Only Erik remained perfectly calm, relishing the quiet and isolation.

“Oh my, look at you.” Sultana tsked her tongue as she peered into the cage. “So alone and forgotten. Are you just going to put up with that, _Zabaniyya_?”

The other rats squeaked and scrambled to hide, but Erik looked up, mildly annoyed, and met the cat’s gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“It seems the Shah has really forgotten about you then.” She smiled, amused by Erik’s growing irritation. “There’s riots breaking out across the city. I was at all the Shah’s most important meetings with his advisors. They wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“What?” Erik snapped to attention. “You mean to say all the humans are going mad? The entire city?”

“Exactly. They were out celebrating one of their holidays, but then it turned into a protest. They say it’s over things like ‘taxes’ and ‘price hiking.’ Such silly things to riot over, wouldn’t you say?” She laughed, a sound altogether too innocent. Such was the manner of beasts, free from humanity’s burdens.

Erik was not so carefree. His thoughts immediately flew to Nadir. The old man was the Daroga of Mazandaran, the one in charge of keeping order through the entire province. Very likely he was out there, caught up in the protests. For a single second, blind panic seized him. His breath came and went in short huffs. He imagined Nadir being attacked, or even worse. Their friendship had fractured, but for all the kindness the old man had once shown him, Erik could not allow him to come to harm.

He almost threw open the door of the cage then and there. However, he immediately realized that he and his companions would be defenseless before Sultana. Reining in his terror, he hissed, “What do you mean, telling me all of this?”

Sultana nuzzled up against the bars of the cage. “I thought you would like to know what’s happening.”

“I doubt that is all, Madame.” Erik shrugged dismissively. Behind him, Suri whimpered. He put a finger to his mouth and shushed her.

“ _Zabaniyya_ , I wouldn’t lie to you. Just like how you’ve never lied to me.” Sultana lay down, as smooth and languid as ever. Nevertheless, her flickering tail betrayed her agitation as she watched to see what her favorite rat would do.

“Even so, what does this matter to me? Let the humans fight each other, like the fools they are.” Erik turned away from her and crawled into his bed, pretending to sleep.

Sultana huffed impatiently. “Aren’t you the least bit worried about the Daroga?”

“Your memory seems to be failing you, Madame. I care nothing for him now.” Erik’s claws dug into the cotton lining of his bed as he struggled to keep all emotion out of his voice. He knew that he could not keep up his act if their conversation continued. Just as during their previous meeting, she would squeeze the truth out of him.

Fortunately, he sensed Suri at his side, close enough that he could almost feel the warmth radiating off her quivering hairs. He found his resolve again, knowing he had to protect her, and to save Nadir.

Their stand-off lasted for several minutes. Both cat and rat pretended to sleep while keeping careful watch over each other’s actions. Finally, Sultana tired of their game and strolled away.

As soon as she was out of sight, Erik flung open the trapdoor at the cage’s bottom. He was on his way out when someone stepped on the fringe of his coat. He whipped around and snarled, but his expression softened when he saw it was Suri. He shook his head and carefully pulled his coat out from under her paw, careful not to touch her.

“I have something I must do. Don’t follow me. Stay here. You’ll all be safe.”

With that, Erik dashed out of his cage and then out of the palace.

* * *

Erik passed through two empty blocks, until he found a palisade staffed by uniformed guards. Squeezing through a gap in the wooden posts, he was confronted by a dark-garbed mass of people. Their bodies and voices seemed to melt into one another as they packed every inch of the street, wailing and writhing.

He had never seen such a huge, chaotic crowd before. For a moment, he had a terrifying vision of all of them gawking and laughing at him. He froze in his tracks, and a whimper gathered in the back of his throat. Then, he realized none of them was paying any attention to him. Instead, they aimed their shouts at the guards, who yelled threats back at them.

With his greatest fear assuaged, Erik turned his mind to making his way through this crowd. One wrong step, he would be crushed under hundreds of thundering feet. At first, he stuck to ledges and alleyways, anything that helped him evade the brunt of the mob. He scanned the bobbing heads, but none of them looked familiar. He realized that he needed a closer look, and so he plunged into the crowd.

It was a mad scramble unlike any other. The horde’s legs were a forest; their robes were a billowing sea. Glittering caskets rocked over their shoulders and blocked out the sky. Voices rose and fell in a brutal rhythm. Erik spun around as he navigated between the jumble of cloth and limbs. A thousand noises and a thousand scents each led him into a new, unknown direction. Fortunately, Erik was a very clever rat. His good memory helped him reposition himself to stay on the proper path.

Even so, the constant movement and heat pouring from the surrounding bodies nauseated him. Between the ritual mourning and furious protests, the crowd had been whipped into a frenzy. People shouted slogans and chanted holy verses. They beat their chests and tore their clothes. All of them were covered in sweat and tears, but a large number of them were also covered in blood. Through flying dust and sticky, scarlet streams, Erik grit his teeth and pushed onward. Finally, at another palisade, he peered through pairs of hairy legs and found a familiar pair of boots.

“DAROGA!” He cried out, but his beautiful voice was drowned out by the sound and fury of the crowd.

Nadir was far more imposing than Erik remembered him. He stood behind his men, shouting orders to them to disperse the crowd. Erik could have sobbed in relief, or maybe even collapsed then and there. Yet, when he brushed against a hand reaching down to grab a rock, he realized that both he and Nadir were still in danger. He skittered to the side, only to see the man next to him raise up his arm.

“DAROGA!” He screamed again.

Summoning up all his energy, Erik leapt out from the crowd. Neither guards nor protestors, nor even the Daorga himself, noticed as he clambered up the Daroga’s trousers. He had reached Nadir’s coat pocket when he looked back to something sailing through the air.

Erik was an intelligent rat. He would judge himself much smarter than all other rats, and a fair number of humans as well. He could predict the trajectory of the flying stone, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized where it would land. The stone was aimed at the Daroga’s head!

“NADIR!”

Unfortunately, his warning went unheard.


End file.
